OF  THE 
UNIVEKSITY 

OF 

C^^LTFOK't^^^ 


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in  2008  with  funding  from 

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THE  CRAYON  CLUE 


THE 
CRAYON  CLUE 


BY 

l^ttNNIE '  J '  REYNOLDS 


NEW  YORK '  IvUTCHELL  KENNERLEY  -  I9I5 


COPYRIGHT,  191 5,  BY 
MITCHELL  KENNERLEY 


PRINTED  IN  AMERICA 


9&t 
c»»o- 


To 

HELEN  M.  REYNOLDS 

In  Memoriam 


ivi597422 


FOREWORD 

THIS  story  is  an  extension  of  a  piece  of  short 
fiction  written  by  myself  and  published  un- 
der the  name  of  Mary  Ronald  in  the  Delineator 
of  May,  19 10. 

The  Author. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAcra 

I.      IN    WHICH    BILLY    LISTENS    TO    CONVERSATION 

SHE  WAS  NEVER  INTENDED  TO  HEAR  I 

II.      IN    WHICH    BILLY    TRIES    A    LITTLE    DETECTIVE 

WORK  13 

III.      IN    WHICH    billy's    SYMPATHIES    ARE    DEEPLY 

STIRRED  22 

IV.      IN  WHICH  billy's  TEMPER  IS  SEVERELY  TRIED  38 

V.      IN    WHICH    BILLY    ACQUIRES    HER    FIRST    DIS- 
CIPLE 59 

VI.      IN     WHICH     BILLY    GAINS     NEWSPAPER     EXPE- 
RIENCE    AND     BECOMES      A      RECEIVER     OF 

STOLEN   PROPERTY  74 

VII.      IN     WHICH     BILLY     COMMITS     PERSONAL    VIO- 
LENCE 95 

VIII.      IN  WHICH    BILLY  GETS  A  SCARE  I16 

IX.      IN   WHICH    BILLY   GOES   TO   THE   LEGISLATURE  I33 

X.      IN    WHICH    BILLY   MEETS  A  REAL  MAN  I74 

XI.      IN    WHICH    BILLY   GOES   ON    THE    STUMP  I98 

XII.      IN   WHICH   BILLY  IS  IMMERSED   IN  POLITICS  224 

XIII.      IN    WHICH    BILLY   SEES   TROUBLE  26$ 

XIV.      WHICH    EXPLAINS  ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER  BOY  297 

XV.      WHICH    SEES  THE   END  OF  THE  CAMPAIGN  325 

XVI.      THE  WIND-UP  357 


CRAYON  CLUE 


CHAPTER    I 

In  Which  Billy  Listens  to  CoNVERSAtiON 
She  Was  Never  Intended  to  Hear 

THE  girl  stood  in  the  outer  office  in  an  atti- 
tude of  listening.  Her  finger  even  went 
to  her  lip,  quite  unconsciously,  and  her  body  bent 
forward,  every  muscle  taut.  Through  the  door 
of  the  inner  office,  slightly  ajar,  came  the  tones 
of  Brackett,  the  district  superintendent,  the  pe- 
culiar dull,  heavy  tones,  which  Billy  always  de- 
scribed as  "smothery." 

"It's  none  of  your  business  whether  the  books 
are  suitable  or  not,"  said  the  voice.  "That's  a 
matter  entirely  outside  your  jurisdiction.  The 
Board  of  Education  will  decide  what  books  are 
to  be  used  by  the  children  of  Bartown.  It's  your 
business  to  see  that  the  orders  of  the  Board  are 
carried  out,  whether  as  to  the  buying  of  books 
or  anything  else." 

"But  the  books  are  not  only  useless  but  a 
hindrance,"  said  a  woman's  voice.  "They  hinder 
the  teachers  in  their  work.    Every  teacher  in  the 

I 


2  CRAYON   CLUE 

building  says  she  can  get  better  results  without 
them." 

''That  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  case,'*  re- 
plied the  man's  voice.  ''And  I'm  sorry  to  be 
obliged  to  tell  you,  Miss  Forrest,  that  If  you  con- 
tinue to  Interfere  In  matters  outside  your  province 
I  shall  feel  It  my  painful  duty  not  to  recommend 
you  for  reappointment." 

His  step  sounded,  coming  towards  the  door. 
With  a  lithe  movement  the  girl  stepped  behind 
the  screen  which  stood  before  the  wash  bowl. 
Through  a  hole  In  said  screen  she  watched  the 
man  walk  through  the  outer  office.  In  his  slow, 
shuffling  way,  and  disappear  through  the  hall 
door,  while  a  woman  followed  him  and  stopped 
by  the  large  flat-topped  desk  In  the  centre  of  the 
room. 

To  this  woman,  standing  In  dejected  attitude, 
appeared  the  girl  from  behind  the  screen. 

Miss  Forrest  beheld  her  with  a  nervous  jump. 

"Miss  Pennington  I"  she  ejaculated. 

Miss  Pennington  looked  at  her  steadily. 

"1)  understand  some  things  now  that  I  didn't 
before,"  she  said. 

"But — Miss  Pennington  I     To  listen  I" 

"I'm  not  In  the  least  ashamed  of  It.  It's  time 
for  somebody  to  listen,  I  should  think." 

The  older  woman  sank  suddenly  Into  the  chair 
beside  the  desk  and  bowed  her  face  upon  her 
hands. 


BILLY   LISTENS   TO   CONVERSATION  3 

"You  see  how  It  Is,"  she  said  in  a  broken  tone. 
**I  suppose  the  teachers  blame  me  for  a  great 
many  things." 

"We  have  done  so,"  admitted  Miss  Penning- 
ton. "We  haven't  understood.  We  will  under- 
stand better  now." 

"But,  Billy,"  exclaimed  Miss  Forrest,  "you 
mustn't  mention  this  to  the  rest.  It  mustn't  be 
talked  over.    It's  dangerous." 

"I  understand,"  said  Miss  Pennington.  "You 
trust  me.  I  haven't  taught  In  the  Bartown  schools 
ten  years  for  nothing." 

"You  mustn't  make  any  use  of  this,  Billy,"  said 
Miss  Forrest  earnestly.  "You  mustn't  speak  of 
it." 

She  was  apparently  dissatisfied  with  the  other's 
silence. 

"Will  you  promise  me?"  she  insisted. 

"No,  I  won't  promise  anything,"  said  the  other, 
"except  that  I  won't  hurt  you  in  any  way." 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  do,  Billy?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  "Billy."  "Nothing,  prob- 
ably, about  this  particular  thing,  anyway.  But 
something  has  got  to  be  done  about  the  whole  sit- 
uation.   It's  becoming  unbearable." 

They  parted  after  a  few  more  words,  and 
Miss  Pennington  took  her  way  homeward.  School 
closed  at  three  o'clock  for  the  children,  but  it  had 
been  nearly  six  when  her  after-school  work  was 


4  CRAYON  CLUE 

finished,  and  it  was  dark  when  she  boarded  her 
car. 

This  young  lady's  full  name  was  Wilhelmina 
Derwent  Pennington ;  a  portentous  appellation  for 
so  small  and  cheerful  a  person.  But  all  her 
friends,  and  they  were  legion,  called  her  Billy 
Pen,  a  cognomen  much  more  in  keeping  with  her 
slim  smallness  and  her  infectious  grin. 

Billy  Pen's  face  was  so  grave  and  downcast 
that  it  was  calculated  to  appall  anyone  who  knew 
her  habitual  countenance ;  as  sunshiny  a  little  phiz 
as  ever  helped  to  brighten  dull  humanity.  Her 
brown  eyes  were  downcast  throughout  the  ride. 
Her  red  gold  hair,  which  curled  as  naturally  and 
crisply  as  a  little  pig's  tail,  actually  seemed  to 
droop,  though  the  weather  was  cold.  She  hung 
to  her  strap  automatically,  she  moved  up  auto- 
matically as  the  conductor's  voice,  urging  her 
thereto,  reached  her  subconsciousness. 

Finally  came  the  blessed  moment  of  the  Inser- 
tion of  her  latch-key  in  her  own  door.  As  she 
opened  it  a  feminine  voice  called,  "Billy?" 

"Yes,"  said  Billy,  "where  are  the  girls?" 

This  was  a  regular  order  of  business  in  the 
Pennington  household.  Billy  rarely  entered  the 
house,  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  that  her 
mother's  voice  did  not  greet  her  with  "Billy?" 

And  Billy  always  responded  with,  "Yes,  where 
are  the  girls?"  unless  the  girls  happened  to  be 
with  her. 


BILLY    LISTENS   TO   CONVERSATION  5 

If  Billy  were  in  the  house  and  the  latch-key 
sounded  in  the  lock,  her  mother  always  called, 
"Girls?"  And  they  always  responded,  "Yes, 
whereas  Billy?" 

Mrs.  Pennington  always  referred  to  her  chil- 
dren as  "Billy  and  the  girls,"  wherefore  some 
persons  supposed  she  had  a  son  and  two  daugh- 
ters. There  was  a  difference  of  only  fourteen 
months  between  the  ages  of  "the  girls."  They 
hunted  in  couples.  They  were  rarely  separated, 
and  many  persons  supposed  them  to  be  twins. 

They  were  together  now,  as  usual,  when  Billy 
entered  the  dining  room,  where  one  was  just  low- 
ering a  brown  earthen  casserole,  from  which  rose 
a  rich  and  fragrant  odor,  to  its  place  upon  the 
table,  and  the  other  was  dishing  up  pickled 
peaches. 

"Hurry  up  and  wash  your  face,  Bill,"  said  one 
of  them;  "it's  all  ready." 

Billy  disappeared  into  the  bathroom,  and  when 
she  reappeared  her  mother  was  seated  behind  the 
coffee  urn,  with  a  girl  on  either  hand,  under  the 
cheerful  glow  of  the  red  shaded  light.  Billy  could 
never  face  that  scene  unmoved.  She  sat  down  in 
her  own  seat  and  surveyed  her  assembled  family 
with  that  look  of  beaming  appreciation  which  it 
always  evoked  from  her. 

Mrs.  Pennington  had  eyes  for  nothing  but  her 
face. 

"YouVe  tired,  Billy,"  she  said  instantly,  in  a 


6  CRAYON   CLUE 

tone  of  tender  anxiety.  Every  night  her  first  re- 
mark was  to  pronounce  upon  her  eldest  daughter*s 
condition  as  she  perceived  it.  In  addition  to  the 
ordinary  maternal  affection  she  felt  for  Billy  that 
solicitude,  that  respect  and  consideration,  which 
the  home  woman  feels  for  the  breadwinner  of  the 
family,  even  though  her  own  work  may  be  much 
harder. 

Mrs.  Pennington  had  been  left  a  widow  ten 
years  before.  Her  husband  had  died  very  sud- 
denly, leaving  her  nothing  but  her  household  fur- 
niture, a  few  hundreds  in  the  savings  bank,  and 
three  children.  Billy  was  i8,  "the  girls"  14  and 
13.  Billy  had  just  graduated  from  the  city  train- 
ing school  for  teachers.  She  immediately  took  a 
grade  position  in  the  Bartown  schools,  and  be- 
came the  breadwinner  for  the  family  of  four. 
Mrs.  Pennington  made  the  rent  by  letting  rooms. 
With  every  fibre  of  their  being  the  two  older 
women  bent  themselves  to  the  task  of  properly 
educating  the  two  younger  girls. 

They  had  succeeded.  Those  were  long  years 
and  hard  ones,  years  of  unremitting  toil,  close  to 
the  edge  of  penury,  ready  to  topple  over  into  the 
gulf  should  either  of  the  older  women  fall  sick 
or  die.  But  they  had  succeeded.  The  girls  were 
now  24  and  23.  Both  were  in  good  positions, 
earning  good  money.  The  Pennington  family, 
with  three  salaries  coming  in  instead  of  one,  was 
floating  on  the  high  tide  of  prosperity. 


BILLY   LISTENS  TO   CONVERSATION  7 

Mrs.  Pennington  said  no  more  until  dinner  was 
over.  She  looked  to  see  Billy,  who  had  had  only 
a  cold  lunch  since  morning,  brighten  up  under  the 
influence  of  warm  food.  But  when  the  girl  still 
remained  downcast  she  said  tenderly : 

"What  Is  it,  Billy?  Is  something  troubling 
you?'' 

It  was  the  comforting  habit  of  the  Penningtons 
to  talk  everything  over  together.  No  slightest 
event  which  concerned  one  member  of  the  quar- 
tette lacked  interest  to  the  others.  They  all 
gathered  around  now,  to  find  out  what  was  the 
matter  with  Billy. 

"It's  the  same  old  thing,"  said  Billy,  "only  it 
gets  worse  every  day.  I  don't  know  what  we're 
going  to  do.    Things  are  in  an  awful  mess." 

She  told  them  of  the  scene  In  the  principal's 
office. 

"It  puts  an  entirely  new  light  on  Miss  Forrest," 
she  said  thoughtfully.  "You  know  we  girls  at  43 
haven't  known  exactly  what  to  think  of  her.  She's 
a  jewel  to  us,  every  teacher  in  the  building  loves 
her.  And  she  is  a  splendid  principal  and  head  of 
a  school.  But  when  it  came  to  standing  out  for 
some  things,  we've  felt  that  she  wasn't  reliable; 
that  she  was  trying  to  stand  in  with  the  powers 
that  be.    We  thought  she  lacked  moral  fibre." 

"But  what  is  it  about  these  books,  anyhow?" 
asked  Edith,  the  younger  of  "the  girls." 


8  CRAYON  CLUE 

"Why,  this  drawing  book  is  a  fraud  and 
a  fake/'  said  Billy.  "More  than  that,  It's 
a  nuisance.  Any  teacher  who  knows  anything 
at  all  knows  that  flat  drawing  is  out  of  date.  Any 
teacher  with  a  grain  of  sense  wants  her  pupils  to 
draw  from  objects.  That's  universally  admitted 
now,  in  the  educational  world,  and  a  teacher 
would  have  to  be  a  poor  dub  not  to  know  it. 

"Well,  we  teachers  at  43  held  a  meeting  the 
first  week  of  school,  and  voted  not  to  tell  the 
children  to  get  these  books.  Miss  Forrest  hesi- 
tated over  this,  and  back  and  filled,  but  finally 
consented  to  have  nothing  said  about  the  books. 

"Things  ran  along  some  weeks  and  then  the 
man  that  runs  the  little  book  store  near  43,  where 
all  our  children  buy  their  books,  sent  word  to 
know  why  the  children  hadn't  bought  their  draw- 
ing books  this  year.  Miss  Forrest  sent  back  word 
that  the  teachers  felt  the  books  were  unnecessary, 
and  were  going  to  try  a  term  without  them.  She 
wanted  to  back  down  then  and  send  the  children 
right  off  to  get  the  books,  but  we  bucked  her  up 
again,  and  laughed  at  the  book  man's  cheek. 

"The  next  step  was  Brackett's  call,  and  I  hap- 
pened to  overhear  his  gentle  remarks.  Now  I 
understand  what  Miss  Forrest  is  up  against.  She 
hasn't  told  any  of  us.  She  was  afraid  to.  She 
was  terrorized." 

"But  why  do  you  care  so  much  about  the  draw- 


BILLY   LISTENS   TO   CONVERSATION  9 

ing  books?'*  said  Edith.  "I  understand  that  it 
disgusts  you  and  makes  you  mad,  but  what  makes 
you  so  blue  over  it?" 

"Because  it's  part  of  the  whole  thing,"  said 
Billy  soberly.  "There's  something  terrible  going 
on  in  the  schools  of  Bartown.  A  vast,  rotten 
graft  of  some  kind.  The  whole  system  is  per- 
meated with  it.  We  all  know  it,  but  it's  hard  to 
get  specific  instances.  And  nobody  will  take  it 
up  or  move  in  the  matter.  If  I  could  only  get 
something  definite  to  go  on,  I  would  take  it  to  the 
papers.  The  Forum,  now,  has  always  been  so 
interested  in  the  schools.  I'm  sure  it  would  help 
us.  But  there's  nothing  but  this  vague,  blighting 
influence,  that  has  increased  steadily  for  years 
past,  ever  since  Brackett  was  made  our  district 
superintendent,  in  fact.  He  is  one  of  Dreiser's 
men.  Dreiser  put  him  in  after  he  was  made  su- 
perintendent. 

"When  I  first  began  to  teach,  ten  years  ago,  the 
teachers  were  regarded  as  a  part  of  the  school 
system.  As  the  ones  who,  out  of  the  whole  sys- 
tem, came  into  daily,  hourly  contact  with  the  chil- 
dren, they  were  consulted,  and  their  opinions  lis- 
tened to  with  respect.  But  that's  all  gone  by.  The 
whole  trend  is  now  to  treat  us  like  factory  hands. 
Any  experience  or  knowledge  of  the  business  of 
teaching  which  we  may  have  gained  in  the  school- 
room is  not  recognized  as  existing.     I  can't  de- 


lO  CRAYON   CLUE 

scribe  the  influence  to  you.  It*s  a  sort  of  death- 
in-life  atmosphere;  deadening  and  smothering. 

*'The  people  are  suffering  from  this  as  well  as 
we.  There  are  about  a  thousand  children  in  43. 
At  20  cents  apiece  for  those  drawing  books,  that's 
$200  the  parents  of  this  one  district  alone  are 
compelled  to  make  a  present  of  to  the  Columbian 
Book  Company.  With  approximately  200,000 
children  in  the  schools,  that's  $40,000  annually 
that  the  people  of  Bartown  are  forced  to  con- 
tribute to  the  Columbian  Book  Company  for  one 
small  item,  a  book  that  the  teachers  would  throw 
out  if  they  could.  And  we  could  teach  the  chil- 
dren to  draw  a  great  deal  better  from  apples  and 
chalk  boxes  and  such  things.  Mrs.  Merrill  taught 
us  that." 

"Why  do  you  say  the  Columbian  Book  Com- 
pany," queried  Ethel,  the  older  girl. 

"Because  only  the  Columbian's  books  are  used 
in  the  schools.  Dr.  Haswell  never  would  have  it 
that  way.  He  would  take  the  textbook  that  he 
found  best,  no  matter  where  he  found  it.  But 
Mr.  Dreiser  will  have  nothing  but  the  Columbian 
books  through  the  schools.  And  it  was  the  Colum- 
bian got  Mrs.  Merrill  out,  and  she  had  an  inter- 
national reputation  as  a  teacher  of  drawing.  She 
was  a  contributor  to  the  most  scholarly  educa- 
tional periodicals,  and  she  was  sent  for  all  over 
the  United  States  and  Canada  to  lecture  on  draw- 


BILLY    LISTENS    TO    CONVERSATION  II 

ing  in  the  public  schools  before  teachers*  Insti- 
tutes. She  condemned  the  Columbian  books  on 
their  merits,  and  refused  to  back  down.  She 
fought  the  thing  to  a  finish,  and  she  was  dis- 
charged. The  Columbian  books,  which  she  had 
thrown  out  of  the  schools,  were  replaced,  and 
more  than  that  no  big  city  in  the  country  will  em- 
ploy Mrs.  Merrill.  The  Columbian  has  her  black- 
listed, and  has  been  strong  enough  to  keep  her  out 
of  any  position  commensurate  with  her  abilities 
and  reputation.  She's  teaching  in  a  little  one- 
horse  Iowa  town  which  is  too  small  for  them  to 
notice,  I  suppose,  for  $75  a  month. 

"We  teachers  know  that  story,  but  not  one 
word  of  it  ever  got  in  the  papers.  It  just  passed 
over  silently,  and  Mrs.  Merrill,  one  of  the  best 
educators  we  ever  had  in  Bartown,  was  simply 
snuffed  out.  We  have  no  tenure  of  office.  The 
Board  can  fire  the  ablest  educator  in  the  city  with- 
out assigning  any  reason  at  all.  That's  what'll 
happen  to  me  if  I  don't  keep  my  mouth  shut,  and 
it's  getting  harder  to  keep  it  shut  every  day." 

"Don't  keep  it  shut  for  that,"  said  Ethel. 

Billy  looked  quickly  at  this  older  of  "the  girls," 
clever,  brainy  young  Ethel,  who  as  the  private 
secretary  of  a  financier  was  today  earning  the 
largest  salary  in  the  family. 

"I  don't  want  to  retire  for  you  girls  to  support 
yet  a  while,"  said  Billy. 

"Don't  let  that  worry  you,"  replied  Ethel ;  "you 


12  CRAYON    CLUE 

supported  us  for  quite  a  number  of  years,  you 
know." 

"YouVe  a  brick,  Ethel,"  said  Billy,  "but  I  guess 
it  won't  come  to  that  just  yet." 


CHAPTER    II 

In  Which  Billy  Tries  a  Little  Detective 
Work 

SHE  was  not  so  sure  of  it  next  morning,  how- 
ever. Her  class  work  had  hardly  begun 
when  the  door  opened  and  Brackett,  the  district 
superintendent,  and  Miss  Forrest  appeared. 

"How  many  vacant  seats  have  you,  Miss  Pen- 
nington?" said  Brackett. 

"Ten,"  she  replied. 

He  cast  his  eye  round  the  room.  Two  sides 
were  pierced  with  tall  windows.  But  a  tall  build- 
ing had  been  erected  nearly  against  one  of  these 
sides,  leaving  only  the  other  row  of  windows  to 
light  the  place.  The  tier  of  seats  farthest  from 
these  windows  was  the  darkest  in  the  room. 
Therefore  Miss  Pennington  had  left  it  vacant. 

After  a  brief  inspection  Mr.  Brackett  spoke  a 
word  to  Miss  Forrest.  She  went  away,  but  a 
few  minutes  later  returned  with  ten  small  chil- 
dren. 

"Take  those  seats,"  said  Brackett  to  the  chil- 
dren, in  his  dull  voice,  pointing  to  the  vacant 
row. 

13 


14  CRAYON   CLUE 

Billy  looked  on  in  dumfounded  amazement 
while  the  ten  infants  from  the  third  grade  climbed 
on  the  high  seats  intended  for  sixth  grade  pupils 
and  patiently  let  down  their  short  legs  to  dangle 
in  the  air. 

The  face  that  she  turned  upon  Brackett  evoked 
a  word  of  explanation  from  the  superintendent. 

"We  find  there  are  vacant  seats  enough  in  the 
building  to  accommodate  a  whole  class,"  said  he 
in  a  casual  way;  "so  we  are  going  to  fill  them  and 
close  one  classroom." 

"But,  Mr.  Brackett,"  ejaculated  Billy;  "is  it 
possible  I  am  expected  to  teach  these  third  grade 
pupils  with  my  sixth  grade?" 

"Certainly,"  said  Brackett;  "it  is  only  the  upper 
grades,  where  the  pupils  begin  to  drop  out  of 
school,  that  have  vacant  seats.  All  the  lower 
grades  are  full  already.  Of  course  it  is  nonsense 
to  keep  an  unnecessary  room  and  unnecessary 
teachers  employed  when  there  are  plenty  of  va- 
cant seats  in  the  building." 

He  spoke  as  if  the  matter  were  of  no  impor- 
tance whatever,  and  left  the  room  immediately. 
Only  a  teacher  can  understand  the  abysmal  aston- 
ishment and  indignation  which  rendered  Miss  Pen- 
nington speechless.  To  have  had  ten  sixth  grade 
pupils  added  to  her  room  would  have  been  com- 
paratively a  small  matter,  although  ten  more 
children  in  a  class  after  one  already  has  forty 
somewhat  resemble  an  inch  on  the  end  of  a  man's 


BILLY   TRIES    A    LITTLE   DETECTIVE   WORK         1 5 

nose ;  very  small,  but  rather  appalling  in  just  that 
place. 

But  the  placing  of  this  small  section  of  a  grade 
far  removed  from  her  own  in  her  room  seemed 
to  Billy  the  hallucination  of  a  pipe  dream;  the 
fantasy  of  a  maniac.  She  felt  as  a  clerk  at  a  silk 
counter  might  if  a  consignment  of  tin  dippers  were 
placed  on  his  shelves  for  him  to  dispose  of.  Or 
a  dentist,  if  a  law  were  passed  requiring  him  to 
shave  all  his  male  patrons.  Or  an  actor  playing 
Hamlet  instructed  by  his  manager  that  he  would 
be  obHged  to  take  the  part  of  Ophelia  in  addition 
to  his  own.  To  a  teacher  this  performance  was 
just  as  mysterious  and  maniacal  as  any  of  these. 

At  the  noon  hour  an  excited  group  of  teachers 
gathered  in  Miss  Forrest's  office.  The  school  was 
in  a  poor  district,  in  which  small  children  were 
put  to  work  at  the  earliest  possible  age  at  which 
they  could  outwit  the  labor  inspectors,  and  girls 
were  kept  out  of  school  to  care  for  infants  too 
young  for  the  kindergarten.  There  were  three 
kindergartens  in  the  building,  three  rooms  of  the 
first  grade,  two  each  of  the  second,  third  and 
fourth,  one  each  of  the  fifth,  sixth,  seventh  and 
eighth.  One  of  the  third  grade  classrooms  had 
been  closed,  and  the  teacher  discharged.  The  46 
pupils  in  her  room  had  been  distributed  through 
the  upper  classrooms;  six  in  the  fifth,  ten  each  in 
the  sixth  and  seventh,  twenty  up  in  the  eighth. 
The  teachers  in  these  four  rooms  were  expected 


1 6  CRAYON   CLUE 

to  keep  their  own  classes  up  to  grade,  and  also 
to  cover  the  third  grade  course  for  the  year  with 
this  group  of  small  children. 

By  thus  throwing  four  classrooms  into  con- 
fusion, adding  almost  inconceivable  difficulties  to 
the  work  of  four  teachers,  depriving  forty-six 
little  third  graders  of  a  room  and  teacher  of  their 
own,  and  the  pupils  of  the  four  upper  classes  of 
the  time  and  attention  to  which  they  were  en- 
titled, the  school  board  had  saved  one  salary  of 
$60  a  month. 

Miss  Forrest  did  not  join  in  the  wild  confab 
of  excited  teachers.  She  stood  aloof  and  made 
brief  replies  to  all  their  queries.  They  learned 
from  her,  however,  that  the  order  was  general, 
though  not  universal. 

Billy  took  the  printed  list  of  the  300  or  more 
school  buildings  in  Bartown  and  checked  off  those 
in  which  she  knew  the  change  had  been  made. 
Then  she  sat  down  at  the  phone,  called  up  the 
city  superintendent's  office  and  had  a  little  talk 
with  the  girl  at  the  other  end  of  the  phone. 

"Well,  Pen,  what  did  you  find  out?"  asked  one 
as  she  rose. 

"So  far  as  Fve  found  out,"  said  she,  "not  a 
room  has  been  closed  in  the  better  residence  dis- 
tricts. They're  all  in  the  tenement  districts,  es- 
pecially in  the  poorest.'' 

"Where  the  children  need  all  the  schooling 
they  can  get  while  they're  little,"  said  one  teacher. 


BILLY  TRIES   A   LITTLE   DETECTIVE   WORK         1 7 

"And  where  there  are  no  important  people  to 
make  a  row  about  it/'  rejoined  Billy. 

Miss  Forrest  shot  a  warning  glance  at  her. 

**I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  transfer  Alex 
Michelovitch  to  the  Incorrigible  class  imme- 
diately," said  Billy  to  her;  ^Tve  been  hanging 
onto  Alex  with  both  hands  to  keep  him  from  start- 
ing in  to  go  to  the  bad  right  now.  But  I  can't 
do  it  any  longer  with  this  fresh  ten." 

"Very  well,"  said  Miss  Forrest  briefly;  and 
then  added,  "If  all  the  teachers  who  received 
third  grade  pupils  will  stay  tonight  I  will  go  over 
the  third  grade  course  with  them.  I  must  say  to 
you  that  you  will  be  marked  for  reappointment 
and  promotion  on  the  standing  of  your  third 
grade  pupils  as  well  as  your  own  grades." 

The  four  upper  grade  teachers  looked  sick,  but 
they  did  not  blame  Miss  Forrest.  They  knew  it 
was  no  policy  of  hers.  As  they  went  through  the 
halls  back  to  their  rooms  Miss  Harcourt,  a  frail, 
elderly  woman,  who  taught  in  the  eighth  grade, 
wiped  tears  from  her  face. 

"It's  been  all  I  could  do  to  keep  going  with  my 
regular  class,"  she  said  in  a  choking  voice;  "I'm 
afraid  I  shall  break  down  now.  Oh,  Billy,  if  I 
do,  what  shall  I  do?  I  haven't  any  money  or 
any  relations." 

She  looked  at  Billy  with  a  haunting  fear  in  her 
eyes  that  cut  to  the  heart. 

After  her  extra  hour  was  over  that  night  Billy 


1 8  CRAYON   CLUE 

put  in  another  hour  and  a  half  In  school  work. 
This  brought  her  up  to  5.30.  When  she  left  the 
building,  instead  of  going  home  she  sought  a  flat 
house  in  the  neighborhood  and  climbed  four 
flights  of  stairs  to  a  door  having  the  name  Mc- 
Cann  over  the  bell.  The  McCanns  were  among 
the  Irish  Americans  who  still  clung  to  the  neigh- 
borhood, although  it  was  fast  filling  up  with 
non-English  speaking  residents.  All  the  McCann 
youngsters  had  been  to  school  to  Billy  at  one  time 
or  another.  All  were  now  employed,  and  all 
were  shortly  due  at  home  for  dinner.  One  after 
another  as  they  came  In  greeted  Miss  Pennington 
with  hilarious  joy. 

Billy  Pen's  great  hold  In  this  world  was  her 
popularity.  Almost  everyone  who  had  ever 
known  her  liked  her,  and  this  was  particularly 
true  of  her  old  pupils,  now  scattered  about  the 
city  in  various  wage-earning  capacities.  She  was 
pre-eminently  a  good  mixer,  probably  due  to  the 
fact  that  she  sincerely  thought  herself  as  good  as 
anybody  in  the  world,  and  not  a  bit  better.  Mrs. 
McCann  was  delighted  to  see  her.  So  was  Lillle 
McCann,  who  worked  in  a  department  store..  So 
was  Mary  McCann,  who  was  learning  the  mil- 
linery trade.  So  was  Johnny  McCann,  the  oldest 
In  the  family,  who  was  now  a  clerk  In  the  little 
book  store  near  Public  School  43. 

John  came  in  last,  and  they  only  waited  for 
him  to  clean  up  before  sitting  down  to  supper. 


BILLY  TRIES   A   LITTLE   DETECTIVE   WORK         1 9 

Billy  would  much  rather  have  been  at  home,  but 
she  wanted  to  talk  to  Johnny  McCann,  though 
none  of  the  family  had  any  idea  of  that. 

"I  suppose  Mr.  White  felt  pretty  good  over 
those  drawing  books,"  she  remarked  after  a 
while. 

"That's  right,"  said  Johnny,  grinning;  "he  sort 
of  brought  you  folks  to  time  over  at  P.  S.  43, 
didn't  he?" 

'That's  right,"  admitted  Billy;  "how'd  he  man- 
age it?" 

"Oh,  Hicks  fixed  that." 

"Who's  Hicks?" 

"He's  the  agent  of  the  Columbian  Book  Com- 
pany for  Bartown." 

"Oh,  shucks  I"  said  Miss  Pennington.  "You 
can't  make  me  believe  the  agent  of  a  big  com- 
pany like  that  pays  any  attention  to  a  little  store 
like  White's." 

"They  don't,  eh?  Well,  now.  Miss  Penning- 
ton, there's  some  things  even  a  schoolma'am  don't 
know.  Hicks  paid  just  that  much  attention  that 
he  went  to  Dreiser,  the  city  superintendent  of 
schools,  and  Dreiser  sent  the  order  over  to  you 
folks." 

Miss  Pennington  shook  her  flaxen  head. 

"You  can't  make  me  believe  that,"  said  she. 

"Oh,  well,  now.  Miss  Pennington,  I'll  just  show 
you  that  you  don't  know  it  all  even  if  you  are  a 


20  CRAYON   CLUE 

schoolma'am/*  declared  Johnny,  laughing  loudly 
at  his  own  wit. 

He  pulled  a  letter  from  his  pocket  and  gave  it 
to  her.  It  bore  a  recent  date,  and  contained  only 
a  few  lines,  written  by  hand  on  the  stationery  of  a 
hotel  in  a  little  Canadian  town. 

"Dear  White,"  it  ran,  *'I  saw  Dreiser  about  the 
matter  of  the  drawing  books  at  P.  S.  43,  and  it 
is  O.  K.  He  has  sent  the  order  to  the  school  to 
get  the  books  right  away.  Let  me  know  any  other 
instances  of  that  kind.  Yours  truly,  A.  R.  Hicks." 

"Why,  how  did  you  come  to  have  this  letter, 
Johnny,"  said  Miss  Pennington  carelessly. 

"For  the  stamps,"  said  Johnny;  "I  sell  collec- 
tions of  stamps  to  kids.  That's  got  a  Canadian 
stamp  on  it.  I  suppose  Mr.  Hicks  had  to  go  over 
to  Canada,  and  forgot  to  telephone  before  he  left. 
Mr.  White  threw  it  in  the  waste  basket,  and  I 
picked  it  out  for  the  stamp." 

Miss  Pennington  made  no  further  comment, 
but  began  to  joke  Johnny  about  a  certain  girl  in 
the  neighborhood  to  whom  he  was  supposed  to  be 
very  much  attached.  This,  to  the  McCann  fam- 
ily, was  the  highest  form  of  wit.  Johnny  pro- 
tested blushingly,  and  the  fun  became  uproarious. 
While  the  joy  was  unconfined  Miss  Pennington 
took  her  departure,  overwhelmed  with  pressing 
invitations  to  come  again. 

In  the  car  she  took  the  letter  out  of  her  bag 


BILLY   TRIES   A   LITTLE   DETECTIVE    WORK         21 

and  read  it  again.    She  had  dropped  the  envelope 
under  the  table. 

"How  strange/'  she  thought,  "that  I  should 
actually  get  possession  of  this  just  at  this  time. 
If  I  could  get  a  few  more  documents  like  this  I 
believe  some  paper  would  take  it  up.'* 


CHAPTER   III 

In  Which  Billy's  Sympathies  Are  Deeply 
Stirred 

THE  influence  which  had  been  creeping 
through  the  Bartown  school  system,  si- 
lently and  slowly,  like  some  noxious  but  imper- 
ceptible gas,  for  three  or  four  years  past,  seemed 
to  have  suddenly  acquired  speed  and  energy. 

Within  a  few  weeks  seventy-nine  classrooms 
were  closed  in  the  city,  one  in  every  building  out- 
side the  better  class  sections  of  the  city.  It  would 
have  seemed  wiser  to  do  this  gradually,  but  evi- 
dently the  authorities  in  charge  cared  nothing  for 
any  feeling  aroused. 

In  seventy-nine  buildings  were  wearied,  dis- 
turbed, nervous,  angry  teachers,  unavoidably 
communicating  their  own  overwrought  condition 
to  the  pupils.  The  teachers  in  the  buildings  un- 
affected were  hardly  less  indignant  than  the 
others,  and  all  were  oppressed  by  a  fear  of  what 
was  to  come  next. 

Into  this  boiling  caldron  of  dissatisfaction 
dropped  the  new  chalk.  When  Billy  reached  her 
room  one  morning  she  found  new  and  unfamiliar 

22 


BILLYHS  SYMPATHIES  ARE  DEEPLY  STIRRED      23 

boxes  of  crayon  placed  about.  On  trying  them 
she  found  that  the  light  powder  of  chalk  did  not 
flake  off  them  as  from  the  old  ones.  Some  oily 
substance  seemed  to  have  been  incorporated  with 
the  stuff,  which  gave  it  a  slightly  greasy  feel  to 
the  touch. 

The  first  class  sent  to  the  board  that  morning 
was  one  in  Arithmetic,  for  their  famous  ''speed 
practice"  in  multiplication.  They  covered  the 
board  with  figures. 

Later  she  endeavored  to  place  on  the  board  a 
list  of  questions  in  history.  She  rubbed  as  vigor- 
ously as  possible  with  the  eraser,  but  was  unable 
to  remove  the  figures  entirely.  The  white  sur- 
face of  each  came  off,  but  a  dull  greasy  mark  re- 
mained on  the  board.  It  required  a  pressure  hard 
enough  to  tire  her  wrist  to  make  her  writing  stand 
out  white  and  clear  as  usual  on  this  background. 
Later  a  map  was  drawn  on  this  space.  The  words 
"colonists  settled,"  left  over  from  the  history 
lesson,  were  dully  perceptible  in  its  centre,  and 
under  that  dim  outhnes  of  figures,  like  a  palimp- 
sest manuscript. 

By  the  end  of  the  week  Billy  was  In  the  most 
nervous  condition  she  had  ever  known.  She  was 
practically  deprived  of  the  use  of  the  blackboard, 
one  of  the  most  important  adjuncts  of  classroom 
work  in  the  history  of  schools.  This  with  fifty 
children  in  the  room,  of  different  grades.  The 
boards  were  covered  with  an  appalling  mass  of 


24  CRAYON   CIUE 

dull,  grayish  marks,  impossible  to  erase,  stretch- 
ing to  the  utmost  corners,  high  and  low,  where 
the  exasperated  children  had  sought  a  clean  space, 
as  yet  undimmed  by  previous  writings.  It  re- 
quired harder  and  harder  pressure  to  make  fresh 
writing  visible.  Lists  of  questions  or  sums  for 
arithmetic  lessons  placed  on  the  board  by  herself 
were  no  longer  visible  through  the  room.  The 
poor  little  third  graders  looked  up  at  her  patheti- 
cally when  sent  to  the  board,  for  their  tiny  hands 
were  incapable  of  producing  a  pressure  which 
would  make  their  work  visible.  She  had  to  give 
up  blackboard  work  entirely  for  them,  although 
it  is  enjoyed  so  keenly  by  young  children. 

The  difficulties  of  teaching,  and  hence  of  disci- 
pline, were  increased  almost  indescribably.  At 
the  end  of  the  week  the  class  was  more  nearly  de- 
moralized than  she  had  ever  seen  any  class  of 
hers  before.  She  was  like  a  tailor  set  to  make  a 
coat  with  a  broken  needle;  a  carpenter  required 
to  build  a  house  with  nicked  tools. 

Friday  dragged  horribly.  It  rained  furiously, 
and  the  children  came  back  after  the  lunch  hour 
wet  through,  and  sat  in  their  wet  clothes  all  the 
afternoon.  In  former  years  there  had  been  "one 
session"  on  rainy  days,  prolonging  the  morning 
session  until  i  o'clock,  and  then  dismissing  for 
the  day.  But  this  had  been  done  away  with 
under  the  new  administration,  as  taking  too  much 
time  from  the  school  year.    There  was  steam  heat 


BILLYHS  SYMPATHIES  ARE  DEEPLY  STIRRED      25 

in  the  building,  for  the  weather  had  been  very 
cold.  It  was  impossible  to  have  the  windows  open 
on  the  one  side  where  air  could  enter,  because  the 
rain  blew  in  violently.  So  the  school  sat  and 
steamed  in  the  steam  of  its  own  wet  clothes  all 
the  afternoon. 

On  such  days  it  takes  a  big  vitality,  a  big  will 
power  and  a  high  nervous  strain  on  the  part  of  a 
teacher  to  hold  a  class  within  bounds.  As  the 
afternoon  drew  toward  its  close  Billy's  head  al- 
most swam.  She  had  given  the  order  to  arrange 
desks  and  make  ready  for  the  dismissal  gong, 
when  suddenly  appalling  shrieks  rang  through  the 
building.  She  flung  open  the  door.  The  shrieks 
came  from  Miss  Harcourt's  room  across  the  hall. 

All  up  and  down  the  hall  doors  were  flung  open 
like  hers,  and  startled  faces  looked  forth.  In 
one  room  the  class  rose  simultaneously  and  came 
piHng  into  the  doorway  after  the  teacher.  At 
that  instant  Brackett,  the  district  superintendent, 
came  out  of  Miss  Harcourt's  room. 

**Get  back  there,"  he  called  harshly;  "what  are 
you  doing  at  your  doors?  Get  ready  for  dis- 
missal." 

He  went  downstairs  and  a  moment  later  the 
gong  sounded  for  dismissal,  five  minutes  before 
the  usual  time.  Miss  Harcourt's  class  came 
tumbling  out  tumultuously,  but  Brackett  came  tod- 
dling back  and  brought  order  Into  chaos  with  his 


26  CRAYON   CLUE 

sharp  commands.  As  the  lines  disappeared  down 
the  stairs  he  turned  to  Billy  and  said  savagely: 

"Get  in  there  and  look  after  that  fool." 

Even  in  the  confusion  of  the  moment  she  could 
have  struck  him  for  the  tone  he  used  to  her. 

She  ran  across  the  hall  to  the  eighth  grade 
room.  Miss  Harcourt  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of 
her  little  platform,  leaning  back  against  her  desk, 
gibbering.  There  was  nothing  else  to  call  it.  She 
was  nodding  and  smiling,  and  her  lips  continu- 
ously formed  words,  although  no  sound  came 
from  them.  She  paid  no  attention  to  the  teachers, 
who  came  crowding  in,  and  stood  motionless, 
dazed  and  horrified  at  the  sight. 

Then  the  harsh  voice  of  Brackett  sounded  be- 
hind them. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "you'd  better  get  her  home. 
She  seems  to  have  gone  crazy." 

At  the  sound  Miss  Harcourt  gave  another  of 
those  screams  which  had  startled  the  building  a 
few  minutes  before.  She  sat  up  rigidly,  pointed  a 
shaking  finger  at  Brackett,  and  uttered  shriek 
after  shriek.  Billy  ran  forward  and  gathered  the 
distraught  creature  to  her  breast. 

"There,  there,  honey,"  she  crooned,  like  a 
mother  to  her  child;  "there,  there,  never  mind. 
It's  all  right  now.  Now  you're  going  home  with 
me  and  stay  all  night.  You're  going  right  home 
with  Billy  Pen  and  let  Mother  Pen  take  care  of 
you." 


billy's  sympathies  are  deeply  stirred     27 

Over  her  shoulder  she  said,  "Phone  a  cab,"  and 
then  went  on  soothing  the  crazed  woman  until 
the  cab  came. 

They  got  Miss  Harcourt  into  her  wraps  and 
down  to  the  cab.  She  had  fallen  into  silence,  but 
as  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Brackett  in  the  office 
door  she  shook  and  moaned. 

"The  fool  couldn't  keep  out  of  sight,*'  muttered 
Billy  savagely. 

She  got  the  stricken  woman  to  her  own  home. 
As  she  opened  the  door  her  mother's  voice  called 
as  usual,  "Billy?" 

"Yes,"  said  Billy,  but  for  once  forgot  the  girls. 

"Come  here,  mother,"  she  said. 

Mrs.  Pennington  appeared,  aghast. 

"Miss  Harcourt  has  broken  down,"  said  Billy 
briefly.    "Help  me  to  get  her  to  bed." 

Deftly  the  two  women  removed  the  clothing 
from  the  stricken  woman.  Without  a  question, 
silently  save  for  gentle,  murmured,  soothing 
words,  they  got  her  to  bed  and  fed  her  with  hot 
beef  broth,  bubbling  on  the  stove  for  dinner.  In 
the  midst  of  it  Miss  Forrest  came  in  with  a  doc- 
tor. He  gave  opiates,  and  the  trembling,  sobbing 
woman,  who  whimpered  at  times  like  a  beaten 
dog,  sank  at  last  into  sleep. 

Then  at  last  they  sat  down  to  the  dinner  which 
the  girls  had  prepared.  Miss  Forrest  with  them. 
To  her  Billy,  like  the  rest,  turned  for  explanation. 
She  knew  little  more  than  the  others. 


28  CRAYON   CLUE 

"All  I  could  get  out  of  Brackett  was  that  she 
had  gone  crazy,"  said  she. 

*'He  said  that  he  went  to  visit  her  room  and 
that  while  he  was  sitting  there  she  suddenly  went 
crazy  and  began  to  scream.  He  said  she  was  a 
dangerous  woman,  and  it  was  a  wonder  she  had 
not  killed  some  child.  He  said  I  should  have  per- 
ceived her  condition  before,  and  had  her  dis- 
charged.** 

The  principal  sat  with  a  gray,  stricken  look, 
unable  to  touch  her  food.  Billy  also  could  eat 
nothing,  but  consumed  cup  after  cup  of  tea,  strong 
and  hot. 

"Billy,  for  mercy's  sake,**  said  her  mother  anx- 
iously, "don't  drink  any  more  of  that  tea.  You 
are  all  strung  up  now,  and  you  won't  sleep  a  wink 
tonight.** 

Billy  did  not  seem  to  hear  her.  She  looked  at 
Miss  Forrest  and  said,  "This  thing  is  getting  to 
be  Hell.** 

The  principal  nodded,  without  speaking. 

"There'll  be  more  explosions  and  breakdowns," 
said  Billy. 

"I  am  afraid  so,"  said  Miss  Forrest,  in  a  hope- 
less way. 

She  went  away  soon  after.  She  had  offered  to 
spend  the  night  and  watch  with  Miss  Harcourt, 
but  Mrs.  Pennington  vetoed  that. 

"You  look  fit  for  bed  yourself,"  said  she.  "Go 
home  and  stay  in  bed  till  Monday  morning.    I'd 


BILLY'S   SYMPATHIES  ARE  DEEPLY  STIRRED      29 

keep  you  here  if  Miss  Harcourt  were  not  here. 
Billy  is  going  to  take  a  dose  of  that  stuff  the 
doctor  left  and  go  to  bed  too,  and  I'm  going  to 
sleep  in  Miss  Harcourt's  room.  If  she  keeps  me 
awake  I  don't  have  to  get  up  tomorrow  morning. 
The  girls  can  get  up  and  get  breakfast;  and  I 
don't  have  to  go  to  school  next  Monday  morn- 
mg. 

They  yielded,  sinking  gratefully  upon  her  ma- 
ternal strength,  and  the  house  was  soon  quiet. 

They  tended  Miss  Harcourt  lovingly  through 
Saturday  and  Sunday.  Billy  stayed  away  from 
her  and  did  the  housework.  She  felt  that  the  sick 
woman  should  not  be  reminded  of  school,  and 
left  her  in  Mrs.  Pennington's  motherly  care.  But 
on  Sunday  afternoon  the  patient  called  for  her. 
Billy  entered  the  room  with  eager  and  painful 
curiosity.  She  was  immediately  relieved.  Miss 
Harcourt  lay  white  and  weak,  sick  and  broken. 
But  the  hysteria  was  gone.  She  was  perfectly 
sane  and  normal. 

*'Billy,"  she  said  weakly,  ^Vhy,  Billy,  what 
made  you  stay  away?" 

**I  thought  it  might  distress  you  to  see  me," 
said  Billy  gently,  kissing  her. 

"Oh,  no,  Billy.  I  want  to  talk  It  over  with 
you.  It's  all  come  back  to  me,  and  I  want  to 
tell  you  about  it.  Oh,  Billy,  how  good  you've 
been  to  me.  What  should  I  have  done  if  I'd  had 
to  go  back  to  that  empty  room  of  mine  and  spend 


30  CRAYON   CLUE 

those  two  days  alone?    Oh,  It's  so  dreadful  since 
Ella's  gone." 

Tears  began  to  slip  helplessly  down  her  cheeks. 
She  stretched  out  her  thin  white  hand  to  Billy, 
who  sat  and  smoothed  It  pityingly. 

"You  see,  Ella  was  all  I  had,"  said  she;  "my 
poor  little  hunchback  sister.  She  sat  In  the  room 
all  day  alone.  Her  spine  pained  her  almost  al- 
ways. She  never  could  do  any  work,  except  a 
little  sewing.  And  often  she  couldn't  even  darn 
a  pair  of  stockings  without  suffering.  But  she  was 
so  anxious  to  do  my  mending  and  keep  my  clothes 
in  order.  It  distressed  her  more  than  anything 
when  she  couldn't.  She  felt  It  was  all  she  could 
do  for  me,  and  It  distressed  her  so  to  be  a  burden 
on  me." 

She  cried  heartbrokenly. 

"There  was  hardly  anyone  at  her  funeral  last 
summer,"  she  sobbed;  "hardly  anyone.  The  poor 
girl  had  no  friends  or  acquaintances  of  her  own 
and  the  teachers  were  all  scattered  for  their  sum- 
mer vacation.  After  all  her  good,  sweet,  gentle 
life  there  was  no  one  but  me  and  the  landlady 
to  see  her  laid  away." 

So  she  lay  and  told  the  sad  little  story  of  her 
life,  and  Billy's  knowledge  supplied  what  she  did 
not  tell.  All  her  adult  years  she  had  had  the 
hunchback  sister  to  maintain,  and  she  had  spent 
much  money  for  doctor's  bills.  She  reached  every 
September  in  debt,  and  had  to  wait  till  the  end 


billy's  sympathies  are  deeply  stirred    31 

of  the  month  for  her  first  check  of  the  school  year, 
always  owed  in  full  when  she  got  it.  Last  sum- 
mer the  sister  had  died,  and  she  had  not  yet 
finished  paying  the  funeral  bill.  She  had  faced 
the  opening  of  school  worn  with  grief,  overwork 
and  debt.  The  sister  had  been  her  last  living 
relative.  She  was  a  woman  of  good  education, 
an  excellent  instructor,  but  of  frail  physique  and 
nervous  temperament.  With  a  small  class,  under 
easy  conditions,  she  could  teach  admirably. 

These  she  had  had  for  years  at  school  43,  un- 
der Miss  Forrest.  The  eighth  grade  was  always 
small  in  this  building.  Miss  Forrest  was  kind  and 
considerate,  and  a  good  enough  teacher  herself 
to  appreciate  Miss  Harcourt's  value  as  an  edu- 
cator. This  atmosphere  was  necessary  for  suc- 
cess on  Miss  Harcourt's  part.  She  was  timid  and 
sensitive,  shrinking  from  criticism  as  from  a  blow. 
Blooming  gratefully  in  a  kind  atmosphere,  like 
some  humble  flower  opening  to  the  sun,  she  be- 
came instantly  nervous  and  upset  under  antagon- 
ism. 

When  twenty  children  from  the  third  grade  had 
been  added  to  the  thirty  in  her  eighth,  it  had  been 
a  staggering  blow.  The  work  was  too  hard  for 
her,  that  was  all.  The  combined  class  was  too 
large  and  difficult  for  her  strength.  Then  came 
the  chalk — but  at  mention  of  the  chalk  Miss  Har- 
court  began  to  shake  again. 

"It  was  the  chalk  did  it,"  she  cried.    "It  nearly 


32  CRAYON  CLUE 

drove  me  crazy  all  the  week.  And  then  Friday 
he  came  in  and  sat  and  sat  and  glowered,  and  the 
children  were  wet  and  restless  and  I  couldn't  use 
the  blackboard,  and  he  made  me  nervous  and  they 
got  away  from  me  and  began  to  perform,  and  then 
he  got  up  and  said:  'Miss  Harcourt,  I  am  aston- 
ished at  what  I  have  seen  today.  You  certainly 
cannot  expect  reappointment  if  you  cannot  disci- 
pline your  class  better  than  this.'  Said  it  right 
out  loud  before  the  children,  and  some  of  the 
eighth  grade  ones  heard  him  and  understood  per- 
fectly, and  looked  at  me  and  laughed.  Then's 
when  I  went  to  pieces  and  screamed.  It  seemed 
to  me  if  that  man  didn't  get  out  of  my  sight  I 
should  go  crazy." 

So  this  was  the  explanation.  It  was  that  awful 
Friday,  the  worst  day  in  the  whole  year,  that 
Brackett  had  chosen  to  spend  in  the  room  of  a 
teacher  already  taxed  beyond  endurance  by  un- 
expected burdens  shoved  upon  her  by  the  school 
management.  And  it  was  his  attack,  brutal,  un- 
called for,  unnecessary,  which  had  driven  her 
over  the  edge  of  her  self-control.  The  woman 
had  been  living  in  one  small  room,  cooking  her 
meals  over  a  little  gas  burner,  because  of  poverty; 
and  this  In  a  profession  as  nerve-racking,  demand- 
ing as  much  vitality  and  magnetism  as  that  of  the 
actor,  the  lecturer,  or  anyone  else  who  must  con- 
trol and  Interest  human  beings  In  the  mass. 

Billy  went  to  school  very  grave  and  serious 


billy's  sympathies  are  deeply  stirred     33 

Monday  morning.  Miss  Harcourt  had  refrained 
from  accompanying  her  only  because  she  found 
herself  too  weak  to  put  on  her  clothes. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  afraid,"  she  had  cried  pitifully. 
"After  this  affair  Friday  if  I  don^t  show  up  this 
morning,  they  will  take  my  place  away  from  me." 

"Nonsense,"  said  Billy;  "you'll  get  leave  of  ab- 
sence, of  course.  Don't  worry  about  that  a  min- 
ute.    Miss  Forrest  will  attend  to  that  today." 

And  she  believed  what  she  said.  But  when  she 
reached  the  principal's  office  she  was  staggered  to 
find  that  Miss  Harcourt  was  already  discharged. 
The  committee  on  teachers  had  held  a  special 
meeting  Saturday,  Brackett  had  appeared  before 
it,  and  declared  that  Miss  Harcourt  was  either 
insane  or  on  the  verge  of  insanity,  and  the  com- 
mittee had  immediately  dropped  her  from  the 
staff. 

"What!  Without  allowing  her  to  appear? 
Without  hearing  a  word  in  her  behalf?"  stormed 
Billy. 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Forrest  in  a  low  voice,  "even 
I  was  not  called  upon.  Mr.  Brackett  went  before 
the  board  and  testified  that  it  was  dangerous  to 
the  children  to  retain  her  in  the  schoolroom,  and 
they  simply  accepted  his  statement." 

"But  she's  no  more  crazy  than  you  or  I,"  said 
Billy  furiously.  "She's  sick  and  nervous  and  needs 
a  long  rest.    But  she  is  certainly  not  crazy." 

"No,"  said  the  principal,  almost  in  a  whisper, 


34  CRAYON   CLUE 

"but  he  wants  It  believed  that  she  Is.  He  knows 
he  drove  her  Into  hysterics,  and  he  wants  to  cast 
her  under  such  a  cloud  that  nothing  she  can  say 
will  ever  be  beheved." 

This  was  so  much  for  the  careful  Miss  Forrest 
to  say  that  It  Impressed  Billy  deeply. 

"But  I  believe  a  person  could  collect  damages 
for  being  declared  insane  when  they  are  not.'* 

"How  many  damage  suits  do  you  think  Miss 
Harcourt  will  bring?" 

"Lawyers  will  take  up  damage  suits  without 
fees." 

"Against  great  corporations,"  said  Miss  For- 
rest; "but  Brackett  Is  a  school  teacher.  He's 
hardly  rich  enough  to  tempt  a  lawyer." 

"And  furthermore,"  said  Billy,  striding  up  and 
down  the  office,  "the  school  board  hired  her  for  a 
year.  They  hired  her  to  teach  the  eighth  grade 
in  this  building,  nothing  else.  I  believe  her  sal- 
ary for  the  rest  of  the  year  could  be  collected  If 
suit  were  brought,  and  she  went  on  the  stand  and 
showed  herself  sane,  and  showed  that  her  break- 
down had  come  from  work  which  she  never  con- 
tracted to  perform  being  thrust  upon  her." 

"Who's  going  to  bring  suit?" 

"By  gum,  I'd  like  to,"  said  Billy  between  her 
teeth. 

"Take  care,  Billy,  take  care,"  said  Miss  For- 
rest. "Don't  get  excited  over  this  thing  and  talk 
too  much.    I  tell  you  this  man  Brackett  is  danger- 


billy's  sympathies  are  deeply  stirred    35 

ous.  He  IS  capable  of  discharging  you  over  my 
head,  although  your  record  is  clean  as  a  whistle." 

''I  know,"  said  Billy.    She  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"It's  almost  9,"  she  said.  "There  are  two 
other  things  I  must  speak  about.  That  chalk. 
Something's  got  to  be  done  about  it.  That  was 
the  real  thing  that  sent  Miss  Harcourt  off  the 
handle.    It'll  have  us  all  crazy  if  it's  kept  in  use." 

"My  dear  Pen,  what  can  I  do?"  said  the  prin- 
cipal helplessly. 

"All  right,"  said  Billy  Pen;  "if  you  hear  of  me 
doing  anything  you  don't  know  anything  about  it. 
Now,  what's  to  be  done  with  Miss  Harcourt? 
Heaven  knows  she's  welcome  at  our  house,  but  if 
she's  fired  something  permanent's  got  to  be  done. 
She's  getting  old.  I  don't  believe  she's  got  ten 
dollars  in  the  world." 

Here  appeared  the  Miss  Forrest  that  the 
teacher  of  43  knew  and  loved. 

"You  leave  that  all  to  me.  Pen,"  said  she 
heartily.  "You've  done  enough.  I'll  attend  to 
the  whole  matter." 

So  she  did.  In  the  competent,  masterly  fashion 
in  which  she  did  everything  when  she  was  not 
afraid  of  the  superintendent.  She  called  a  teach- 
ers' meeting  that  night,  explained  the  situation, 
and  asked  for  contributions. 

"Miss  Pennington  will  keep  Miss  Harcourt  till 
she  is  fit  to  be  moved,"  she  explained.  "She  will 
ask  no  board.     That  Is  her  contribution.     It  Is 


36  CRAYON   CLUE 

the  best  place  for  Miss  Harcourt  to  be,  sur- 
rounded by  kind  friends  and  with  Mrs.  Penning- 
ton to  care  for  her.  But  after  this  breakdown  she 
will  need  some  months  of  recuperation,  with  her 
mind  at  ease,  in  order  to  get  thoroughly  well.  I 
have  in  mind  just  the  place  for  her,  the  Jackson 
Sanitarium,  over  among  the  mountains.  There 
she  can  have  scientific  treatment,  baths,  diet,  rest, 
amusement  and  kind  care.  The  regular  price  is 
$25  a  week,  but  I  believe  under  the  circumstances 
they  will  take  her  for  half  price.  I  will  arrange 
all  that,  and  secure  her  transportation. 

"When  she  is  thoroughly  well,  we  will  see 
whether  she  can  take  a  position  again,  or  whether 
we  must  get  her  into  an  old  ladies'  home." 

"But  isn't  Miss  Harcourt  crazy?"  asked  one  of 
the  newer  teachers,  curiously. 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,"  said  the  principal 
smoothly.  "She  is  undoubtedly  unfit  at  the  pres- 
ent time  to  teach  school.  After  she  has  had  thor- 
ough treatment  it  can  be  seen  whether  her  mind 
is  permanently  affected  or  not." 

Billy's  gorge  rose. 

"Her  mind  is  no  more  affected  than  mine  is," 
said  she  brusquely.  "She's  sick,  that's  all  that's 
the  matter  with  her." 

Miss  Forrest  went  on  discussing  plans  as  if 
Billy  had  not  spoken.  The  teachers  at  43  sub- 
scribed one  hundred  dollars.  It  was  not  the  first 
time  they  had  gone  into  their  pockets  for  sick 


billy's  sympathies  are  deeply  stirred     37 

and  superannuated  teachers.  One  broken-down 
teacher  in  Bartown  had  died  in  the  poorhouse. 
The  horror  of  the  story  when  it  became  known 
had  established  the  custom  of  generosity  in  these 
cases. 

After  they  were  alone  once  more  Miss  Forrest 
said:  "Billy,  you  will  say  what  you  like  about 
these  matters  outside,  of  course.  If  you  wish  to 
risk  your  own  position  that's  your  business.  But  I 
ask  you  out  of  consideration  for  me  not  to  speak 
again  as  you  did  today  in  the  meeting." 

"Miss  Harcourt  isn't  crazy,  and  I  won't  let 
anyone  say  it  in  my  presence,"  said  Billy  stub- 
bornly. 

"Brackett  has  declared  her  crazy,"  said  Miss 
Forrest.  "I  suppose  it's  a  great  satisfaction  to 
you  to  know  that  your  words  will  be  taken  straight 
to  him." 

Billy  stared. 

"Don't  you  know  that  that  girl  who  asked  the 
question  is  one  of  Brackett's  girls?  He  put  her 
in  here.  He  knows  everything  that  goes  on  in 
this  building.  I've  long  known  that  some  one 
here  was  reporting  to  him  privately.  I  am  con- 
vinced It  Is  she." 

Billy  threw  up  her  hands  and  clasped  them 
above  her  head. 

"Spies!"  she  said.     "Spies!" 

"Now  you  know  what  you're  up  against,"  said 
the  principal.     "Be  careful." 


CHAPTER   IV 
In  Which  Billy's  Temper  is  Severely  Tried 

WILHELMINA  PENNINGTON  —  Mrs. 
Pennington  always  excused  herself  for 
that  name  because  her  husband's  name  was  Wil- 
liam and  she  wanted  to  name  their  first  child 
after  him — Wilhelmina,  then,  more  familiarly 
known  as  Billy,  also  as  Bill  and  Pen,  had  been 
nothing  but  a  grade  teacher  in  the  Bartown 
schools  all  the  days  of  her  professional  life.  She 
had  received  no  great  education,  and  was  distin- 
guished for  nothing  except  her  winning  ways  and 
general  popularity.  Years  after,  when  she  had 
become  famous,  there  was  something  amusing  in 
the  bewilderment  of  certain  old  associates,  who 
had  known  her  simply  as  one  of  the  ruck  of  or- 
dinary, unknown  grade  teachers.  Probably  the 
rest  of  the  railsplitters  were  always  puzzled  over 
Abe. 

Billy  herself  always  said  that  it  was  old  Dr. 
Haswell  who  brought  her  out.  The  Bartown 
schools  had  for  twenty-five  years  been  blessed 
with  a  superintendent  who  was  the  embodiment  of 
all  that  was  best  in  American  manhood;  a  big, 

38 


billy's  temper  is  severely  tried      39 

generous,  whole-souled  man,  honest  as  the  sun- 
shine, with  brains  enough  to  always  make  a  com- 
fortable living  for  himself  and  family  without  any 
tricks  of  any  kind. 

A  good  many  men  in  the  schools  are  teachers 
because  they  have  not  the  ability  to  make  their 
way  in  any  other  profession.  Another  considera- 
ble class  teach  as  a  stepping-stone  to  something 
better,  and  step  out  in  a  few  years,  leaving  the 
mossbacks  behind.  But  occasionally  there  is  one 
who  is  a  born  educator. 

This  type  is  not  rare  among  the  women  teach- 
ers. Women  are  at  their  old,  familiar,  tradi- 
tional task  in  training  children.  And  because  of 
this,  and  because  comparatively  few  other  call- 
ings have  been  open  to  women,  and  because  there 
is  more  money  in  almost  any  other  man's  trade, 
and  because  a  Victorian  atmosphere  of  gentility 
lingers  about  teaching  as  a  business  for  women, 
the  schools  have  had  the  pick  of  a  class  of  women 
far  superior  to  the  men  in  the  profession.  That 
is,  the  women  in  the  schools  compare  favorably, 
in  brains  and  breeding,  with  the  best  women  out- 
side the  schools.  But  this  is  by  no  means  true  of 
the  men  in  the  schools  compared  with  the  most 
representative  members  of  their  sex  in  other  walks 
of  life. 

But  now  and  then  there  is  a  man  who  is  a 
teacher  straight  from  God;  a  man  who  would 
command  respect  and  a  competence  in  any  profes- 


40  CRAYON   CLUE 

slon,  and  would  probably  make  more  money  at 
anything  else  than  at  teaching;  but  who  stays  in 
the  schools  because  he  loves  the  work  so  well  that 
he  can't  bear  to  do  anything  else.  Dr.  Haswell 
had  been  one  of  this  kind.  He  was  not  a  special- 
ist In  any  line  of  study — just  an  all-around  well- 
educated  man.  But  he  was  a  specialist  In  educa- 
tion; in  the  knowledge  how  to  train  and  inspire 
children  in  the  mass  through  the  machinery  of  the 
public  school  system. 

This  machinery,  of  course,  had  Its  inherent  lim- 
itations, which  he  could  not  overcome.  Also  his 
methods  were  probably  somewhat  old-fashioned, 
somewhat  strenuously  devoted  to  the  three  R's, 
although  he  met  all  the  new  ideas  as  they  came 
along  with  an  open  mind.  But  the  schools  were 
efficient  according  to  the  ideals  of  the  day,  and 
more  than  that  under  Dr.  Haswell  the  Bartown 
schools  were  happy  places  to  be  in. 

A  happy  and  cheerful  atmosphere  pervaded  all 
the  classrooms. 

The  reason  for  this  was  that  everybody  con- 
nected with  the  schools  felt  that  he  was  treated 
right.  There  were  of  course  occasional  grudges, 
but  no  general  sense,  of  Injustice  had  ever  per- 
vaded the  schools.  When  Dr.  Haswell  appointed 
a  man  superintendent  of  a  district,  he  did  so  be- 
cause he  had  confidence  in  the  man  and  respected 
him,  and  he  always  treated  him  accordingly.  The 
superintendents,  working  in  this  atmosphere,  re- 


billy's  temper  is  severely  tried      41 

fleeted  It  upon  the  principals  under  them,  the 
principals  upon  the  teachers,  the  teachers  upon  the 
pupils.  Nobody  smarted  under  a  sense  of  injus- 
tice.   Fair  play  was  the  atmosphere  of  the  schools. 

Dr.  Haswell  was  always  courteous  to  every- 
body. This  was  not  a  matter  of  good  manners, 
though  his  manners  were  good.  It  was  the  natu- 
ral expression  of  an  essentially  democratic  na- 
ture. Dr.  Haswell  considered  that  every  human 
being  was  entitled  to  civil  treatment  as  long  as  he 
conducted  himself  decently.  Everybody  who  went 
to  his  office  on  business  about  the  schools  was  re- 
ceived politely  and  kindly.  He  might  not  get  what 
he  wanted,  but  he  did  not  go  off  mad.  District 
superintendents  receiving  this  treatment  passed  it 
on  down  the  line. 

Moreover,  the  old  man  had  had  an  immense 
respect  for  the  teaching  profession.  He  never  re- 
garded the  teachers  as  ''employees'' ;  or  rather  he 
regarded  them  and  himself  as  co-employees  of  the 
public.  He  had  the  largest  salary  in  the  system, 
but  that  was  because  he  held  the  most  responsible 
position.  While  the  teachers  were  necessarily 
subordinate  in  the  management  of  the  schools,  he 
always  regarded  them  as  a  very  important  part 
of  the  system,  because  they  were  the  members  of 
it  who  did  the  actual  teaching.  The  teachers' 
meetings  were  called  not  merely  to  afford  him  or 
some  other  man  an  opportunity  to  instruct  and 


42  CRAYON  CLUE 

enlighten  the  teachers,  but  also  to  consult  the 
teachers  and  get  their  opinions  about  things. 

The  old  superintendent  had  a  weakness  which 
he  himself  recognized  and  strove  against.  He 
hated  like  the  mischief  to  turn  out  a  teacher,  par- 
ticularly an  old  teacher,  who  had  nowhere  to  go 
and  nothing  to  live  on.  The  one  fault  of  his  sys- 
tem was  its  tendency  to  get  clogged  with  old  teach- 
ers, past  their  usefulness,  whom  he  hadn't  the 
heart  to  drop.  He  was  one  of  the  first  men  in 
the  country  to  advocate  a  teachers'  pension  sys- 
tem, not  so  much  for  the  sake  of  the  teachers  as 
the  schools ;  because  of  the  natural  decency  of  the 
human  heart,  which  shrinks  from  depriving  an 
educated  man  or  woman,  who  has  given  a  life- 
time of  faithful  service  to  the  public,  of  his  only 
means  of  livelihood. 

With  this  kind  of  man  at  the  head  the  system 
became  filled  with  the  same  kind  of  people.  Con- 
siderate, fair-minded  people  ran  the  schools. 
While  the  committee  on  teachers  of  the  board  of 
education  hired  the  teachers  for  a  long  period  of 
years,  it  never  made  an  appointment  not  recom- 
mended by  Dr.  Haswell.  Once,  in  later  years, 
there  had  been  an  effort  in  the  board  of  education 
to  remove  Dr.  Haswell.  But  the  attempt  created 
such  an  uproar  throughout  the  city  that  it  was 
dropped  in  the  manner  of  a  man  who  has  in- 
advertently grasped  a  hot  poker.    So  things  had 


billy's  temper  is  severely  tried      43 

gone  on,  with  everybody  satisfied,  for  twenty-five 
years. 

Then  Dr.  Haswell  died,  and  in  his  place  the 
board  appointed  Dreiser,  widely  heralded  as  an 
up-to-date  man,  an  exponent  and  exemplar  of  the 
last  note  of  modernity  in  the  gospel  of  efficiency. 
Things  had  gone  on  much  the  same  the  first  year. 
The  only  marked  change  was  the  Immediate  adop- 
tion of  the  Columbian  Book  Company's  publica- 
tions throughout  the  schools.  At  the  end  of  the 
year,  when  certain  members  of  the  force  dropped 
out,  as  always  happens,  Dreiser's  people  were  put 
in  their  places.  A  bunch  of  the  older  teachers 
were  dropped  also,  on  the  ground  that  they  had 
passed  their  usefulness.  Some  of  the  cases  were 
rather  piteous,  and  in  others  it  hardly  seemed  as 
if  the  younger  and  more  agile  persons  put  In  their 
places  had  Increased  the  efficiency  percentage. 
But  the  Forum  editorial,  pointing  out  in  a  con- 
siderate and  dignified  way,  that  personal  consid- 
erations must  always  give  way  to  the  welfare  of 
the  schools  as  a  whole,  sufficiently  expressed  the 
attitude  of  the  public. 

At  the  end  of  Dreiser's  second  year  wholesale 
changes  were  made.  Nearly  half  of  the  old  dis- 
trict superintendents  and  principals  were  dropped, 
and  Dreiser's  appointees  put  in.  The  change  In 
the  whole  atmosphere  of  the  schools  this  year  was 
so  marked  that  those  jteachers  who  happened  to  be 
left  under  one  of  Dr.  Haswell's  old  principals  felt 


44  CRAYON  CLUE 

thankful.  Numerous  changes  were  made  also  in 
the  teaching  staff,  and  no  teacher  felt  any  longer 
that  her  position  was  secure,  or  that  any  service 
of  hers  in  the  schoolroom  could  make  it  secure. 

The  next  September  was  the  one  with  which 
the  present  story  opens,  and  the  adventures  with 
drawing  books  and  chalk  herein  related  illustrate 
Its  tendencies. 

Billy  Pen  had  grown  up  under  Dr.  Haswell*s 
square  deal  regime.  She  always  said  in  later  years 
that  that  was  the  secret  of  her  rise  to  fame.  As 
there  were  many  teachers  whom  it  did  not  affect 
In  the  same  way,  It  may  be  surmised  that  Billy's 
personality  had  something  to  do  with  the  matter. 
A  kind  of  panic  had  spread  through  the  schools. 
There  had  been  of  course  great  dissatisfaction 
over  the  numerous  discharges  of  the  second  year 
of  the  Dreiser  reign.  But  the  complaints  of  a 
discharged  person  never  influence  the  public 
much.  And  the  old  Haswell  element  in  the 
schools  said  nothing,  made  no  move.  They  were 
terrorized.  Mrs.  Merrill,  Indeed,  the  superin- 
tendent of  drawing.  In  the  old,  fearless,  Inde- 
pendent Haswell  way,  had  condemned  the  Colum- 
bian drawing  books.  She  had  stood  to  her  guns, 
and  she  had  been  defeated  and  discharged.  The 
calm  displacement  of  a  woman  standing  so  high  In 
the  whole  teaching  profession  had  been  a  warn- 
ing. 

This  was  the  situation  which  had  been  depress- 


billy's  temper  is  severely  tried      45 

ing  Billy  more  and  more  throughout  the  fall. 
She,  like  the  rest,  was  affected  by  the  vague  at- 
mosphere of  terror  that  pervaded  the  schools. 
She  had  not  the  faintest  conception  of  herself  as 
the  leader  of  a  crusade.  She  knew  next  to  noth- 
ing of  public  affairs.  But  the  events  culminating 
in  Miss  Harcourt's  breakdown  determined  her 
that  somebody  should  do  something;  and  as  no 
one  else  would,  she  must. 

Terrible  as  Miss  Harcourt's  disaster  was,  with 
hard  logic  Billy  saw  that  the  chalk  was  more  ter- 
rible still.  That  was  the  cause  of  the  disaster, 
and  was  the  cause  of  conditions  throughout  the 
schools  of  which  this  disaster  was  merely  an  acute, 
example.  Moreover,  Billy  was  inclined  to  con- 
sider Miss  Forrest  a  rather  ineffective  person,  and 
with  a  naive  conceit  thought  that  perhaps  the 
presentation  of  the  matter  by  a  more  direct  and 
forceful  personality  might  have  more  weight. 

So  the  next  day  she  wore  her  Sunday  frock  to 
school,  and  as  soon  as  school  was  out  primped  be- 
fore the  looking-glass  in  her  cloak  room,  and  set 
off  for  the  office  of  her  district  superintendent. 

Her  Sunday  gown  was  a  coat  and  skirt  of 
golden  brown  corduroy,  with  a  blouse  of  golden 
brown  satin,  and  a  hat  of  golden  brown  velvet 
with  a  drooping  brown  feather.  The  effect  of 
all  this  with  her  golden  hair  and  brown  eyes  was 
quite  ravishing. 

Billy  Pen  had  a  small,  oval  face,  a  smart  little 


46  CRAYON   CLUE 

chin,  a  sweet  little  mouth  which  smiled  infec- 
tiously, and  a  creamy  complexion.  All  this  sounds 
like  a  person  who  would  marry  young.  But  Billy 
had  been  much  too  busy  to  even  think  of  getting 
married  while  she  was  raising  her  family,  and 
now  that  they  were  raised  and  settled  the  custom 
of  not  marrying  seemed  to  have  become  a  fixed 
habit  with  Billy  Pen. 

Miss  Pennington  did  not  thus  don  her  good 
clothes  so  much  with  the  hope  of  influencing  her 
superior  In  office  as  for  their  effect  upon  her  own 
feelings. 

"Glad  rags  do  give  you  so  much  self-respect," 
she  remarked  as  she  turned  away  from  the  mir- 
ror. 

"Why,  Delia  Perkins,"  said  she  to  the  office 
girl,  as  she  entered  Brackett^s  office;  "how  do  you 
do  ?  Who  ever  knew  you  were  here  ?  I'm  awfully 
glad  to  see  you." 

A  smile  illumined  Miss  Perkins'  face.  She  was 
an  old  pupil  of  Miss  Pennington's,  and  the  cor- 
dial greeting  pleased  her. 

"Hadn't  seen  her  for  eight  years,"  she  re- 
marked to  her  folks  at  home  that  night.  "She's 
had  hundreds  of  different  kids  since  then,  but 
there  she  was,  same  old  Miss  Pennington,  and 
'tain't  'zif  I  could  do  anything  for  her,  or  she 
could  get  anything  out  of  me.    She's  all  right." 

Miss  Pennington  chatted  for  a  few  minutes 
with  her  approving  ex-pupil,  and  then,  upon  re- 


billy's  temper  is  severely  tried      47 

ceivlng  an  invitation  to  do  so,  advanced  with 
modest  confidence  into  the  inner  office.  She  was 
not  used  to  being  snubbed.  She  could  count  on 
one  hand  all  the  times  in  her  life  that  people  had 
been  rude  to  her.  Consequently,  fortified  as  she 
was  by  her  glittering  apparel,  she  was  surprised 
to  have  the  superintendent  let  her  stand  by  the 
desk,  while  he  went  on  writing  without  looking  up 
or  speaking. 

When  he  did  finally  glance  at  her  he  neither 
bowed,  smiled  nor  asked  her  to  be  seated.  He 
merely  said  frigidly, 

"You  wished  to  see  me?" 

Billy  was  not  even  sure  that  he  knew  her. 
Taken  aback  she  began  hesitatingly,  *'I  don't 
know  that  you  remember  me,  Mr.  Brackett '' 

"I  know  you  quite  well,"  he  interrupted.  "What 
do  you  want?" 

Billy's  lips  grew  firm. 

"I  want  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Brackett,"  said  she, 
"that  I  think  some  one  actually  engaged  in  class- 
room work  should  tell  you  the  effect  of  this  new 
chalk.    It  is  destroying " 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  the  schools?"  he 
interrupted. 

"Ten  years,"  said  Billy. 

"And  you  don't  know  yet,"  said  he,  "that  in  all 
matters  pertaining  to  classroom  work  the  proper 
course  for  the  teacher  is  to  consult  with  the  prin- 
cipal?" 


48  CRAYON   CLUE 

"I  have  consulted  her  and 


"Very  well,"  he  cut  In,  "then  what  are  you  here 
for?    You  must  know  you  have  no  business  here." 

"It*s  my  business  as  a  teacher  In  the  Bartown 
schools  to  protest  against  that  chalk,"  said  Billy, 
hurrying  the  words  out  before  he  could  interrupt 
her. 

He  surveyed  her  In  cold  astonishment. 

"I  wonder  how  the  schools  of  Bartown  have 
been  run  In  the  past,"  said  he.  "Fd  really  like 
to  know.  You  teachers  seem  to  think  youVe  in  a 
district  school  at  Smith's  Four  Corners.  If  you 
don't  learn  your  places  before  the  new  manage- 
ment gets  through  with  you  I  miss  my  guess." 

He  touched  his  desk  button,  and  to  the  girl  who 
came  said, 

"Miss  Perkins,  show  this  person  out." 

To  Billy  came  a  taste  of  that  humiliation  which 
had  been  dealt  out  to  Miss  Harcourt  a  few  days 
before.  Delia  Perkins  was  an  old  pupil  of  hers. 
It  was  not  pleasant  to  be  ordered  off  the  premises 
in  her  presence.  She  went  without  a  word,  so  hot 
with  rage  that  she  did  not  dare  trust  herself  to 
speak. 

She  walked  long  and  fast  through  the  chill  au- 
tumn air.  She  was  deeply,  furiously  angry,  and 
could  not  have  sat  still  in  a  car.  As  she  walked, 
she  thought.  Billy  was  not  a  conceited  person. 
Long  years  of  hard  sledding  had  taken  all  that 
out  of  her.     But  she  knew  that  a  good-looking 


billy's  temper  is  severely  tried       49 

young  woman  who  smiles  nicely  and  speaks  pret- 
tily Is  not  often  greeted  boorishly,  even  by  boors. 
Billy  knew  well  enough  that  she  was  not  unpleas- 
ant to  the  eye,  but  she  knew  still  better  that  she 
had  a  remarkable  knack  at  getting  on  with  peo- 
ple. Harassed  street  car  conductors  and  haughty 
salesladies  were  nice  to  Billy.  It  was  family  his- 
tory how  she  had  once  managed  an  intoxicated 
lodger,  who  let  himself  in  with  his  latch-key  and 
started  to  roughhouse  the  place. 

She  had  by  definite  experience  gained  a  pro- 
found respect  for  the  Influence  of  beauteous  dress 
upon  the  male  mind,  for  she  had  ridden  on  the 
street  cars  every  school  day  for  ten  years,  and  had 
found  that  when  she  had  on  good  clothes  men 
gave  her  a  seat,  and  when  she  had  not  they  didn't. 

"Brackett  didn't  wait  for  me  to  irritate  him," 
she  murmured;  ''he  was  looking  for  trouble  when 
I  went  in.  Now,  what's  the  reason  he  jumped  on 
me  so  hard?  Anyhow,  I'll  go  to  his  boss  and  find 
out.'' 

She  boarded  a  car  which  in  a  few  minutes 
landed  her  at  the  Board  of  Education  building,  in 
which  the  city  superintendent  had  his  office. 

The  office  boy  requested  her  name.  After 
taking  it  in  he  came  back  with  the  request  that  she 
state  her  business.  She  pondered  over  it  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  wrote  a  little  note. 

"E.  H.  Dreiser,  Superintendent  of  Schools, 
Dear  Sir,''  It  ran,  "may  I  not  see  you  for  just  a 


50  CRAYON   CLUE 

few  moments?  My  only  excuse  for  asking  this  is 
that,  in  continuous  contact  with  the  children  as  I 
am,  I  cannot  help  seeing  that  my  work  is  being 
injured  by  the  new  chalk.  It  is  not  merely  the 
trouble  and  Inconvenience  to  myself.  It  would  be 
my  business  to  stand  that  If  it  were  for  the  good 
of  the  scholars.  But  I  know  that  it  is  a  detriment 
to  the  children  themselves.  Please  let  me  tell  you 
about  it.  I  feel  that  only  one  who  Is  using,  or 
trying  to  use,  the  chalk  every  Instant  can  fully 
appreciate  the  harm  it  is  doing." 

She  signed  this  and  sent  It  In.  In  two  minutes 
the  boy  was  back. 

"He  says,"  said  the  boy,  with  a  subtle  Inso- 
lence In  his  manner,  "that  all  communications  con- 
cerning school  supplies  must  come  through  regu- 
lar channels." 

So  again  Billy  left,  with  the  same  feeHng  of 
having  been  Insulted  In  the  presence  of  a  subordi- 
nate that  she  had  experienced  an  hour  before. 

She  made  her  way  home  vicious  with  wrath. 

"The  ^regular  channels'  are  my  principal  and 
district  superintendent,"  she  remarked;  "excellent 
people  to  complain  to.  Well,  I'll  take  It  to  the 
Association  and  see  what  they  say." 

The  Bartown  Teachers'  Association  had  a 
meeting  due  a  few  days  later.  There  were  all 
manner  of  teachers'  meetings  In  Bartown;  meet- 
ings of  the  teachers  in  each  building,  of  the  teach- 
ers in  each  district,  grade  meetings,  In  which  all 


BILLYS   TEMPER   IS   SEVERELY  TRIED         5 1 

the  teachers  of  the  same  grade  in  the  city  came  to- 
gether, and  general  meetings  in  which  the  whole 
vast  teaching  body  of  the  city  was  called  to  meet. 

But  these  were  meetings  called  by  the  school 
management.  The  Bartown  Teachers'  Associa- 
tion was  a  different  affair;  an  organization  of  the 
grade  teachers  themselves  for  their  own  benefit. 
Principals  and  superintendents  were  not  admitted. 
There  were  only  a  few  men  in  the  grades,  and 
they  had  never  joined,  perhaps  through  a  lone- 
some feeling  in  so  vast  a  concourse  of  women. 

Dr.  Haswell  had  inspired  the  organization  of 
this  Association.  He  would  not  organize  it,  or 
even  be  present  at  the  organization  meeting.  But 
he  urged  it  upon  the  teachers. 

"Organize,  organize,"  he  used  to  say;  ''have 
your  own  parliament.  Keep  out  the  principals 
and  superintendents,  let  the  high  school  teachers 
organize  by  themselves ;  but  you  organize  and  dis- 
cuss everything  that  in  your  opinion  concerns 
yourselves  or  your  grades.  Then  when  any  ques- 
tion comes  up  we  can  get  the  official  opinion  of 
the  whole  grade  staff,  discussed  and  arrived  at  by 
yourselves,  without  any  overseers  present." 

This  association  had  undertaken  a  few  years 
before  to  incorporate  a  benefit  fund  for  sick  and 
superannuated  teachers.  Some  hundreds  of  the 
teachers  had  taken  out  policies,  they  had  given  a 
great  fair,  which  netted  $10,000  for  the  fund, 


52  CRAYON   CLUE 

and  all  this  work  had  created  a  feeling  of  soli- 
darity in  the  body. 

The  new  management  frowned  upon  the  or- 
ganization. No  effort  had  been  made  to  prohibit 
it,  perhaps  because  it  is  difficult  to  prohibit  a  vol- 
untary organization,  entirely  separated  from  the 
schools,  perhaps  because  it  had  not  offended  in 
any  way.  But  various  appointees  of  Superintend- 
ent Dreiser  had  been  known  to  make  sneering  re- 
marks. 

Billy  attended  the  meeting  of  this  Association 
the  following  Saturday  afternoon,  and  made  her 
first  speech.  She  had,  indeed,  spoken  in  the  course 
of  business  discussion  on  the  floor  many  times, 
much  to  her  own  development  and  education.  But 
this  was  her  first  set  speech,  carefully  prepared 
beforehand.  Afterwards,  when  Miss  Pennington 
became  one  of  the  most  famous  speakers  of  her 
day,  certain  Bartown  teachers  were  fond  of  telling 
how  they  heard  her  first  speech. 

The  subject  of  her  discourse  was  "Chalk." 

She  played  under  and  over  and  around  that 
chalk,  with  lightning  flashes  of  humor  and  pathos; 
with  scintillations  of  grief  and  wrath ;  with  corus- 
cations of  righteous  indignation;  with  aurora  bo- 
realis  of  burning,  white-hot  description.  She 
painted  pictures  of  geography,  grammar,  history 
and  arithmetic  lessons  in  layers  on  the  boards, 
with  a  brush  made  out  of  a  comet's  tail.     It 


BILLY'S   TEMPER   IS    SEVERELY  TRIED         53 

seemed  impossible  that  any  language  could  be  so 
emphatic  without  profanity. 

Last  of  all  she  told  the  story  of  the  broken 
Miss  Harcourt;  the  sad  and  miserable  story  of 
her  life;  the  sad  and  miserable  story  of  its  latest 
catastrophe,  with  words  that  brought  tears  to  her 
audience.  Here  and  there  she  saw  them  dripping 
down.  There  was  no  question  but  that  Miss  Pen- 
nington had  held  her  audience.  Welcoming  her 
with  indulgent  smiles,  for  Billy  usually  made  them 
laugh  when  she  got  up  to  speak,  they  had  grown 
still  and  white  and  hot  as  she  lashed  them  with 
fiery  words  that  seared  raw  wounds  from  which 
they  all  were  suffering. 

The  outcome  was  a  motion  that  the  Bartown 
Teachers'  Association  should  formally  protest  to 
the  Board  of  Education  against  the  chalk  now  in 
use  in  the  schools.  Billy  read  a  resolution  to  that 
effect. 

"I  move.  Madam  Chairman,"  she  said,  "I 
move  the  adoption  of  this  resolution,  and  that  it 
be  officially  communicated  to  the  Board  of  Educa- 
tion, and  copies  forwarded  to  each  of  the  daily 
papers  of  Bartown." 

She  sat  down;  there  was  a  rustle  and  stir  all 
through  the  room.  The  assembly  seemed  ready 
to  put  it  through  with  a  rush.  Anything  better 
calculated  to  stampede  a  convention  than  Billy's 
speech  would  be  hard  to  find. 


54  CRAYON    CLUE 

"You  have  heard  the  motion,"  said  the  presi- 
dent; "are  there  any  remarks?" 

Apparently  there  were  no  remarks. 

"Are  you  ready  for  the  question?"  said  the 
chair,  hesitatingly. 

Then  at  the  last  moment  a  member  rose.  She 
was  one  of  the  older  teachers,  one  of  those  who 
had  cried  at  the  story  of  Miss  Harcourt;  a  mem- 
ber known  to  be  remarkably  efficient  in  committee 
work,  but  no  speaker. 

"Madam  Chairman,"  she  said  vaguely,  "I — 

I "  she  hesitated,  looked  at  Billy  and  then 

burst  out,  "Oh,  Billy!  what's  the  use?" 

There  was  another  stir  and  rustle  through  the 
room.    Everyone  knew  what  she  meant. 

"Madam  Chairman,"  said  the  teacher,  "you  all 
know  what  I  mean.  Every  word  Billy  Pen  says 
Is  true,  and  she's  a  dear  child  and  we  all  love  her, 
but  what's  the  use  of  her  getting  us  all  worked  up 
like  this?  She  knows,  and  we  know,  that  this 
resolution  won't  remove  the  chalk  if  the  manage- 
ment has  decided  to  keep  It,  and  It's  dangerous. 
We  may  lose  our  positions  by  passing  it." 

This  faltering  little  speech,  strange  to  say,  was 
stronger  than  all  Billy's  eloquence.  The  Associa- 
tion agreed  with  every  word  Billy  said,  but  re- 
fused to  pass  her  resolution. 

"Then  we  accept  the  factory  hand  system  of 
education,"  stormed  Billy.  "We  resign  Dr.  Has- 
well's  principle  that  the  teachers  are  a  part  of  the 


billy's  temper  is  severely  tried      55j 

school  system  and  their  findings  should  have  an 
effect  upon  its  policy.  We  acquiesce  in  a  thing 
which  we  know  is  an  injury  to  the  schools  and  an 
outrage  upon  the  children,  because  we  are  cow- 
ards and  afraid  of  our  jobs." 

"Sure,"  said  a  voice  behind  her. 

Some  one  jumped  up  and  moved  to  adjourn, 
and  the  meeting  adjourned  without  voting  upon 
her  resolution  at  all. 

Then  the  adjourned  meeting  swept  up  around 
Billy  and  gave  her  an  ovation. 

"Oh,  clear  out,  all  of  you,"  she  snapped;  "pack 
of  female  Judases,  you.  Knock  out  my  resolution 
and  then  come  around  kissing  me." 

She  found,  however,  that  a  few  more  such  de- 
feats would  spell  victory.  The  Association  was 
with  her  in  sympathy,  restrained  only  by  practical 
considerations.  They  sat  and  talked  a  long  time, 
and  she  came  to  the  conclusion  that,  despite  the 
reign  of  terror,  her  resolution  would  have  had  a 
good  chance  to  pass  had  the  meeting  felt  that  it 
would  do  any  good.  But  they  saw  no  sense  in 
running  a  totally  useless  risk. 

"But  they  couldn't  fire  the  whole  bunch  of  us," 
expostulated  Billy;  "nobody  fires  1,500  teachers 
in  a  bunch.  And  I  wanted  to  get  it  In  the  papers. 
If  this  Association  passed  such  a  resolution  the 
papers  would  surely  have  to  notice  it.  Then  we 
could  let  them  Interview  us  and  get  it  before  the 
people  that  way." 


S6  CRAYON  CLUE 

A  shrill  feminine  groan  went  up  in  chorus. 

"Interviewed  I  Who'll  have  the  honor  of  be- 
ing interviewed  first  and  getting  fired  the  day 
after,"  they  scoffed. 

"Yes,"  said  Billy  hotly,  "and  don't  you  see  it 
goes  way  back  of  this  chalk?  It  goes  back  to 
tenure  of  office.  We  have  no  tenure  of  our  posi- 
tions. Therefore  we  have  lost  the  rights  of 
American  citizens.  We  have  neither  free  speech 
nor  free  press.  And  for  that  when  things  are  done 
that  are  injuring  the  whole  school  system  we  don't 
dare  open  our  mouths." 

"It  doesn't  matter  when  you  have  the  right 
man  for  superintendent,"  said  one. 
.  "Yes,  it  does,"  said  Billy,  with  a  flash  of  in- 
sight; "benevolent  autocracy  is  the  worst  kind, 
because  you're  contented  with  it.  You  may  have 
a  Haswell  over  you,  but  you  never  know.  It's 
up  to  us  to  establish  our  rights  as  a  teaching 
body." 

There  was  silence  in  the  big  group  around  her. 

"But  what  can  we  do  about  it,  Billy?"  asked 
one  of  the  younger  teachers  seriously. 

"We've  got  to  agitate.  We've  got  to  get  this 
thing  before  the  people  some  way.  Our  cause  is 
theirs.  To  just  that  extent  that  our  work  is  ham- 
pered their  children  are  injured.  But  there's  no 
way  to  get  the  situation  to  the  people  except 
through  the  newspapers." 

"I'm   sorry   for   the   dear   people,   then,"   re- 


billy's  temper  is  severely  tried      57 

marked  the  same  voice  which  had  said  *'Sure"  in 
the  meeting. 

"Well,  how  would  you  get  it  to  them  then?" 
demanded  Billy,  turning  to  the  woman. 

"Tell  'em,"  said  the  woman  laconically. 

"How  can  you  tell  a  million  people  any- 
thing except  through  the  newspapers?"  scoffed 
Billy. 

"Anybody  that  can  gab  like  you  can  tell  *em 
anything,"  replied  the  woman  dryly.  She  was  an 
Irish  Catholic  girl,  named  McPike,  not  very  well 
known  in  the  Association. 

Billy  went  home  defeated,  but  aware  that  she 
had  hundreds  of  friends  and  well  wishers  in  the 
Association,  who  would  rally  to  her  support  the 
moment  she  had  anything  to  propose  which  ap- 
pealed to  them  as  having  even  a  chance  of  being 
efficacious.  All  the  old  free  democratic  spirit  de- 
veloped under  Dr.  Haswell  was  alive  in  the  Asso- 
ciation, intensified  and  embittered  by  the  Dreiser 
regime,  but  suppressed  through  prudence  and  the 
inability  to  see  any  remedy. 

"O  Lord,"  breathed  Billy,  "just  let  me  find 
some  way  to  get  back  at  this  gang,  and  those  girls 
will  follow  me  even  if  they  are  afraid  of  their 
jobs.  Just  show  me  how  to  get  one  good  crack 
at  these  monkeys,  and  they'll  follow  like  the  boys 
that  go  into  battle  when  they're  scared  stiff  at  the 
bullets." 


58  CRAYON  CLUE 

She  racked  her  brain,  but  could  devise  no  ex- 
pedient by  which  she  might  bring  the  school  au- 
thorities of  Bartown  to  disaster.  It  seemed  a 
large  job,  and  the  way  seemed  blocked  before  her. 


CHAPTER   V 

In  Which  Billy  Acquires  Her  First 
Disciple 

THE  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  it  rained. 
Billy  joyfully  arrayed  herself  in  a  large 
soft  blue  wool  wrapper,  lay  upon  her  bed  and  dic- 
tated to  Ethel,  who  always  kept  a  private  type- 
writer at  home. 

There  are  advantages  in  having  a  sister  who 
is  private  secretary  to  a  great  financier.  Billy 
was  able  to  send  out  the  extremely  formal  letters 
which  she  was  preparing  in  as  resplendently  ele- 
gant shape  as  any  malefactor  of  great  wealth 
could  have  done. 

She  wrote  first  to  the  chairman  of  the  commit- 
tee on  school  supplies  of  the  Board  of  Education, 
and  to  the  president  of  the  Board.  She  gave  a 
plain,  straightforward  description  of  the  difficul- 
ties and  injuries  introduced  into  her  work  by  the 
chalk.  Then  she  wrote  an  account  of  the  whole 
business,  and  had  enough  carbon  copies  made  to 
furnish  one  to  each  of  the  daily  papers  in  Bar- 
town. 

After  she  had  read  them  all  she  lay  thinking. 
59 


6o  CRAYON    CLUE 

"I  think  It  IS  probably  perfectly  useless  to  send 
them,"  she  said  to  Ethel,  "but  I  can't  think  of 
anything  else  to  do.  It's  the  logical  step  to  take 
next,  but  I  can't  see  any  step  after  that.  If  this 
doesn't  start  anything  I'm  up  against  a  blank 
wall" 

The  doorbell  rang  and  Edith  came  in. 

"It's  that  little  Perkins  girl  that  used  to  go  to 
school  to  you,"  she  announced. 

"Oh,  Delia  Perkins?    Show  her  right  in." 

"Ah  ha,  there!  'Miss  Perkins,  show  this  per- 
son out,'  "  she  chanted  as  the  little  stenographer 
came  in.  "Did  you  come  up  here  to  gloat  over 
your  former  tyrant  in  disgrace?" 

"You  never  were  a  tyrant  to  me,  Miss  Pen- 
nington," said  Miss  Perkins  seriously. 

"Well,  that's  nice  of  you  to  say  so.  Delia, 
this  is  my  little  sister  Ethel.  A  head  taller  than 
I  am,  so  disrespectful  of  a  little  sister.  You  don't 
mind  if  I  lie  on  the  bed  in  my  wrapper,  do  you?" 

"Certainly  not,  Miss  Pennington,"  said  Delia  in 
the  same  serious,  formal  way. 

Then  she  drew  a  small  slip  of  commercial  let- 
terhead out  of  her  handbag. 

"I  thought  perhaps  you  would  like  to  see  this," 
she  remarked  sedately,  handing  it  over. 

Billy  Pen  glanced  at  it  carelessly,  then  slowly 
rose  to  a  sitting  posture,  one  hand  grasping  her 
lovely  tousled  locks,  while  the  other  held  the  pa- 
per before  her  staring  eyes.     It  was  a  receipted 


BILLY  ACQUIRES    HER   FIRST   DISCIPLE         6 1 

bill  from  a  school  supply  company  to  Superintend- 
ent Dreiser. 

"E.  H.  Dreiser,  Board  of  Education  Building, 
Bartown,"  it  read.  "To  Northwestern  School 
Supply  Co.  Dr.  To  40,000  boxes  school  crayon 
at  I7>^  cents  a  box,  $7,000;  Rebate  to  H.  O. 
Dreiser  5  cents  a  box  $2,000;  balance  due  $5,000. 
Received  Payment,  Northwestern  School  Supply 
Co." — the  signature  being  in  the  official  stamp  of 
the  company. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  breathed 
Billy,  handing  it  to  Ethel. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  she  asked  the  Perkins 
girl. 

"Why,  it  means,"  replied  that  individual  in  her 
precise  way,  "that  Superintendent  Dreiser  gets  a 
rebate  of  five  cents  a  box  on  every  box  of  chalk 
used  in  the  Bartown  schools." 

"Why,  good  heavens,  there  must  be  millions 
of  them,"  muttered  Billy  dazedly. 

"Yes,"  said  the  Perkins  girl  calmly;  "it's  a 
good  graft.  This  is  only  the  first  order.  Dreiser 
made  the  deal  with  the  Northwestern  people  be- 
fore school  was  out  last  spring.  But  there  was 
a  quantity  of  old  chalk  on  hand  that  had  to  be 
used  up.  The  Northwestern  offered  him  this  re- 
bate if  he  would  get  their  chalk  introduced  into 
the  schools.  But  they  more  than  make  up  the  dif- 
ference. The  old  chalk  was  only  four  cents  a 
box." 


62  CRAYON   CLUE 

"But  for  the  love  of  Mike,"  cried  Billy, 
"doesn't  the  committee  on  supplies  order  the  sup- 
plies for  the  schools?" 

"They're  supposed  to,"  said  Miss  Perkins, 
"and  they're  responsible.  But  the  way  It  really 
works  Is  that  the  committee,  or  the  board.  In- 
structs Mr.  Dreiser  to  purchase  the  supplies. 
Then  that  order  stands  on  the  records  and  Is  Mr. 
Dreiser's  authorization." 

"But  won't  the  Board  notice  the  awful  differ- 
ence In  the  price?"  demanded  Billy  excitedly. 
"Will  they  let  him  skip  from  four  to  seventeen 
and  a  half  cents  a  box  without  Inquiry?" 

"Oh,  they  ordered  it,"  said  Miss  Perkins. 

"Ordered  It  I" 

"Yes,  he  told  them  the  dust  from  the  old  chalk 
gave  the  children  tuberculosis." 

"Tuberculosis!"  chanted  Billy.  "Oh,  Gee  I 
what  tender  solicitude  for  the  health  and  welfare 
of  the  dear  little  children  I  What  noble  workers 
in  the  crusade  against  the  Great  White  Plague  I 
Soldiers  of  the  Common  Good!     O  Lord!" 

"Yes,"  said  the  Perkins  girl  placidly,  "he  had 
a  doctor  up  before  the  Board  to  tell  them  about 
the  Injury  of  the  air  filled  with  the  flying  particles 
of  chalk,  and  he  showed  them  the  difference  be- 
tween the  old  soft  flaky  chalk  and  this  greasy 
stuff.  Cromer,  the  chairman  of  the  committee  on 
supplies,  said  they  ought  not  to  hesitate  when  the 


BILLY  ACQUIRES    HER    FIRST   DISCIPLE         63' 

health  of  thousands  of  children  was  at  stake,  and 
the  Board  gave  the  order  for  the  change." 

"Depths  beyond  depths,"  said  Billy. 

She  lay  and  reflected,  her  eyes  glued  to  the  re- 
ceipted bill.  Two  thousand  dollars  rebate  on  that 
one  bill  alone.  Two  thousand  dollars  of  the  tax- 
payers' money  into  Dreiser's  pocket,  the  pocket 
of  a  man  with  $7,000  a  year  salary.  Four  class- 
rooms in  one  building  thrown  into  maddening  con- 
fusion in  order  to  turn  out  one  girl  and  save  a 
salary  of  $60  a  month. 

Billy  sat  up  and  passed  one  hand  stupidly  to 
and  fro  across  her  forehead. 

"I  can't  take  it  in,"  she  said;  "why  did  they 
close  seventy-nine  grade  classes  this  year?  Have 
they  got  to  graft  all  that  too?" 

"Well,  it's  partly  that,"  said  Miss  Perkins,  "it 
makes  more  to  graft,  and  then  it's  partly  so  there 
won't  be  such  a  rise  in  the  expense  of  the  schools. 
They  don't  want  to  show  that  too  plainly.  The 
closing  of  those  rooms  saves  about  $6,000  a 
month.    That  makes  quite  a  showing." 

"But  how,"  queried  Billy,  "has  this  all  come 
about  so  suddenly?  How  have  they  managed  to 
grab  the  whole  school  system  all  in  a  bunch?" 

"Dr.  Haswell  got  it  all  ready  for  them,"  de- 
posed Miss  Perkins. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  anything  against  Dr.  Has- 
well?" demanded  Billy,  her  eyes  flashing. 

"No,  it's  just  the  other  way  around,"  said  Miss 


64  CRAYON    CLUE 

Perkins.  "It  was  because  he  was  so  perfectly 
square  and  straight  that  he  got  it  all  in  shape  for 
them.  Dr.  Haswell  always  bought  all  the  sup- 
plies for  twenty-five  years.  Bartown  was  quite  a 
small  city  thirty  years  ago  when  he  began  that, 
and  he  simply  kept  it  up.  Everybody  had  perfect 
confidence  in  him,  and  nothing  he  ever  did  or  said 
was  ever  questioned.  That  got  things  all  ready 
for  Dreiser  to  do  the  same.  But  Dr.  Haswell 
never  had  the  school  buildings.  There  was  al- 
ways graft  in  them." 

"How?" 

"Oh,  the  building  committee  had  charge  of 
erecting  all  the  school  buildings,  and  there's  been 
graft  in  every  one  built  for  years  back.  Perhaps 
there  always  was.  The  money  appropriated  for 
any  building  out  of  the  school  treasury  was  never 
all  put  into  that  building." 

"And  Dr.  Haswell  let  that  go  on?" 

"No,  he  didn't  know  anything  about  it.  He 
never  paid  any  attention  to  the  buildings  except 
to  ask  that  certain  features  that  he  thought  good 
for  the  schools  should  be  incorporated  in  them. 
He  never  paid  any  attention  to  the  business  end 
of  the  school  system.  His  mind  was  fixed  on  the 
educational  side.  After  a  while  they  saw  the 
graft  that  was  possible  in  the  buying  of  the 
school  supplies,  and  they  tried  to  get  him  out. 
But  the  people  wouldn't  have  it." 


BILLY  ACQUIRES    HER   FIRST   DISCIPLE         6^ 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  was  the  reason  of 
that  attempt?"  cried  Billy. 

"Sure,"  said  Miss  Perkins.  "They  knew  bet- 
ter than  to  ever  say  rebate  to  him.  They  knew 
he  wouldn't  stand  for  It,  and  they  were  afraid  to 
put  him  on  for  fear  he'd  tell  It.  And  the  graft- 
ing In  the  buildings  got  bigger,  and  they  were 
always  afraid  he'd  get  onto  that.  So  they  tried  to 
put  him  out.  They  said  he  was  the  best  of  men 
and  deservedly  beloved  by  all  classes  of  citizens, 
but  that  he  was  an  old  man  now,  and  old-fash- 
ioned In  his  methods,  and  the  schools  needed  new 
blood." 

"Yes,"  said  Billy,  thinking  intently,  "the 
Forum  said  that  very  thing  In  Its  editorials  at  the 
time." 

"Well,  the  people  made  such  an  uproar,  and 
made  it  so  quick  and  hard,  that  that  was  dropped. 
But  when  Dr.  Haswell  died,  all  the  authority  that 
had  gravitated  Into  his  hands  in  twenty-five  years 
passed  to  this  man  Dreiser,  and  he  began  to  use 
It  Immediately  to  graft  on  supplies.  The  Colum- 
bian Book  Company  got  him  appointed  here. 
They  pulled  all  kinds  of  strings  In  Bartown  for 
that.  And  of  course  he  put  In  their  books  first 
thing." 

"Does  he  get  It  all?  Doesn't  the  committee  on 
supplies  get  any?" 

"It  must,"  said  Miss  Perkins  thoughtfully. 
"Cromer,  chairman  of  the  committee,  must  be  In 


66  CRAYON   CLUE 

on  It  all.  Dreiser  must  have  to  divvy  everything 
with  him.  But  I  have  no  proof.  I've  got  noth- 
ing to  go  on  except  just  the  kind  of  man  Cromer 
is.  He's  just  a  common,  ordinary  ward  heeler 
that  the  mayor  appointed  there.  What  interest 
has  he  in  the  schools?  He's  one  of  those  that  take 
charge  of  the  dirty  work  in  every  campaign,  the 
buying  and  repeating  and  skullduggery  generally.** 

**rve  heard  that  he  can't  read  writing,"  said 
Billy. 

'Writing I"  said  Delia;  *'he  can't  read  read- 
ing!" 

"The  president  of  the  Board,  he's  a  leading 
citizen,"  she  went  on;  *'and  so's  the  chairman  of 
the  committee  on  teachers.  The  people  round 
about  town  that  are  interested  in  the  schools  and 
take  some  notice  of  education,  they  always  notice 
who's  put  in  those  two  places.  But  the  chairmen 
of  the  committee  on  supplies  and  the  committee 
on  buildings — the  people  never  think  about  them. 
But  those  are  the  officers  the  politicians  want." 

*'Well,  if  the  chairman  of  the  committee  on 
teachers  is  such  a  leading  citizen,  I  think  it's  queer 
he'll  submit  to  having  all  those  classes  closed  in 
that  awful  way,"  said  Billy. 

"He  owns  the  biggest  department  store  in  Bar- 
town,"  said  Delia.  "Julius  Klein,  you  know. 
He's  a  business  man.  He's  always  talking  about 
giving  the  schools  a  business  administration.  Effi- 
ciency; stopping  waste  and  leaks,  he's  always  talk- 


BILLY  ACQUIRES    HER   FIRST   DISCIPLE         67 

ing  about  that.  When  Dreiser  goes  to  him  and 
shows  him  all  the  vacant  seats  scattered  around 
through  the  rooms  and  says  they  might  just  as  well 
be  filled,  he  thinks  that's  fine.  He  can't  see  any 
more  sense  in  keeping  a  teacher  when  her  schol- 
ars could  be  seated  in  the  other  rooms  than  he 
could  in  keeping  three  clerks  at  a  counter  when 
two  were  enough  to  do  the  work.  Chopping  off 
those  seventy-nine  rooms  saves  the  schools  $6,000 
a  month.  He  thinks  that's  great,  and  he  thinks 
Dreiser's  a  great  man.  He  looks  at  him  as  he 
would  at  a  department  store  manager  that  had 
cut  down  the  expense  bill  $6,000  a  month.  Why, 
if  Dreiser  was  to  be  fired  from  the  schools,  I  be- 
lieve Klein  would  put  him  in  manager  of  his 
store.'* 

Billy  lay  lost  in  thought. 

*'Why,  as  for  that,"  said  she  slowly,  "they 
could  run  the  schools  by  department  store  labor. 
They  could  take  girls  from  behind  the  notion 
counters  at  $5  a  week  and  put  them  in  the  class- 
rooms. They  could  get  pauper  labor  out  of  the 
poor  house,  if  the  only  object  Is  to  save  money 
and  keep  down  expenses." 

"They  wouldn't  dare  do  that  yet  a  while,"  ob- 
served Miss  Perkins,  with  perfect  seriousness. 

Billy  stared. 

"Do  you  really  think  they'd  ever  try  it?"  she 
demanded. 

"I  don't  know  why  not,"  said  the  other,  "if 


68  CRAYON   CLUE 

things  go  on  the  way  they're  going  now.  Only 
that's  something  the  people  could  see.  This  other 
thing  Is  all  hidden  from  them.  They  don't  know 
what's  going  on." 

Billy  sat  up  on  the  bed  and  gazed  steadfastly 
at  her  visitor. 

"I  don't  see  how  you  found  out  all  this,  Miss 
Perkins,"  said  she.  It  was  noticeable  that  she  no 
longer  said  Delia.  She  had  conceived  an  amazing 
respect  for  the  little  Perkins  girl  In  the  last  hour. 

"Well,  I've  been  stenographer  in  Mr.  Dreiser's 
office  ever  since  he  came  here,  you  know." 

"Yes,  so  I  heard,"  said  Billy.  'That's  the  rea- 
son I  was  so  surprised  to  find  you  In  Brackett's 
office  the  other  day." 

"I  was  transferred  there  just  a  few  weeks  ago," 
said  Miss  Perkins. 

"But  you  must  have  been  a  mere  child  when 
you  went  Into  Dreiser's  office." 

"Yes,  I  was  nothing  but  a  kid,  just  out  of  busi- 
ness college,"  admitted  Miss  Perkins.  "It  was 
Mr.  Manders  put  me  on.  Mr.  Manders  was  Dr. 
Haswell's  chief  stenographer  and  private  secre- 
tary for  years.  He  acted  as  secretary  of  the 
Board,  too,  attended  the  meetings  and  kept  the 
records.  He  understood  everything  that  was  go- 
ing on.  He  was  onto  Dreiser,  and  he  put  me  on. 
I  suppose  I  would  have  stayed  downy  for  years  if 
he  hadn't  put  me  wise.  But  after  he  tipped  me 
off  I  understood  everything  I  saw." 


BILLY  ACQUIRES    HER    FIRST   DISCIPLE         69 

"Where  Is  Mr.  Manders  now?'' 

*'0h,  he  talked  too  much  and  got  fired.  He 
wouldn't  stand  in.  But  he'd  saved  up  enough  to 
get  him  a  chicken  ranch  in  the  suburbs,  so  he  didn't 
care.    He's  selling  eggs.    Why  should  he  care?" 

"And  where  did  you  get  this  receipted  bill?" 

"I  found  it  mixed  in  with  my  papers  after  I 
left.  It's  never  been  asked  for,  so  I  suppose  It 
hasn't  been  missed.  Or  if  it's  been  missed,  maybe 
Mr.  Dreiser  doesn't  like  to  make  any  inquiries 
about  it." 

"That  seems  terrible  carelessness  on  Dreiser's 
part." 

"It  seems  so,"  admitted  Miss  Perkins,  "but  ac- 
cidents will  happen.  And  Dreiser  Is  careless. 
He  has  dictated  letters  to  me  that  were  very  care- 
less Indeed.  But  these  busy  men  who  are  used  to 
dictating  their  letters  get  so  they  hate  to  write  a 
letter  themselves.  And  then  Dreiser's  like  some 
other  big  men.  He's  careless  because  he  under- 
rates people.  It  never  occurred  to  him  that  I 
knew  beans.  He  never  thought  anything  about 
me,  any  more'n  'zif  I  was  a  machine.  People 
usually  think  I'm  stupid." 

Billy  laughed  outright.  The  Perkins  girl  In 
reality  had  a  stupid  cast  of  countenance.  She  was 
an  old-fashioned-looking  girl,  with  Insignificant 
features,  hair  combed  plainly  down  from  a  part 
in  the  middle,  flat  chested,  with  clumsy  and  un- 
fashionable clothes,  and  that  sort  of  inexpressive 


70  CRAYON    CLUE 

face  which  does  not  mirror  the  thoughts  within. 
There  was  nothing  of  the  flip,  fresh  or  modish 
about  Miss  Perkins. 

Billy  could  Imagine  that  a  man  could  have  her 
around  his  office  for  years  and  notice  her  no  more 
than  a  machine. 

"You  are  a  deceptive  person,  Miss  Perkins," 
said  she  genially.   "You  are  far,  far  from  stupid." 

"It's  a  case  anyway  of  bein'  a  bigger  fool'n  you 
look  or  lookin'  a  bigger  fool'n  you  are,"  said  Miss 
Perkins  calmly. 

The  two  Pennlngtons  shrieked. 

"Did  Dreiser  transfer  you  because  he  suspected 
you?"  asked  Billy. 

"Oh,  no,  he  couldn't  suspect  me,  because  I 
never  opened  my  head  to  anyone  about  this  be- 
fore except  my  own  home  folks.  If  he  suspected 
me  he'd  fire  me  on  the  spot.  It  just  happened. 
Brackett  wanted  an  office  woman,  and  they  sent 
me  over." 

"And  what  made  you  bring  me  this  receipt?" 
asked  Billy  curiously. 

"Well,  I've  been  lookin'  for  somebody  to  start 
something,"  replied  Miss  Perkins;  "and  when 
you  got  on  the  warpath  about  the  chalk  I  thought 
maybe  this  would  help  you." 

"But  you  didn't  hear  what  I  said  to  him  about 
the  chalk.     Did  he  tell  you  afterward?" 

"No,  but  he  called  up  Dreiser  and  told  him  all 
about  It  over  the  phone,  soon's  you'd  got  out.     I 


BILLY  ACQUIRES    HER    FIRST   DISCIPLE         7 1 

took  off  the  receiver  out  in  my  room  and  listened 
to  it  all." 

Billy  stared  at  this  frank  avowal. 

"I  knew  you  must  have  made  him  mad  over 
something  when  he  jumped  on  you  so/'  explained 
Miss  Perkins,  "and  I  thought  Fd  find  out  about 
it.     I  know  it's  not  nice  to  listen." 

"No  apology  necessary,  Miss  Perkins,"  said 
Billy;  "your  elders  and  betters  have  been  known 
to  listen." 

"I  was  sorry  for  you,  too,"  continued  the  girl. 
"Old  Jennie  is  a  brute." 

Miss  Pennington  considered  her  visitor  with  a 
subtle  joy.  There  was  something  in  the  sedate, 
unemotional  way  in  which  the  stenographer  said 
these  crushing  things  of  those  so  far  above  her, 
that  amused  Billy  so  intensely  that  it  was  almost  a 
pain. 

"Jennie?  Why  do  you  call  him  that?"  she 
asked,  deeply  tickled. 

"His  name's  Jennifer,  you  know." 

"No,  is  it?  How  lovely.  He  always  signs 
J.  S.,  you  know."    Billy  gurgled  with  delight. 

"Oh,  Jennie  dear,  Oh,  Jennie  dear, 
Come  rest  upon  this  bosom  here," 

she  sang,  to  the  tune  of  an  old  school  song,  clasp- 
ing her  arms  to  her  breast  in  an  attitude  of  pas- 
sionate devotion.     Then  she  finished  by  kicking 


72  CRAYON   CLUE 

her  heels  In  the  air  and  letting  out  a  "Yowl"  ex- 
pressive of  extreme  pleasure. 

*'What  do  you  think  of  Dreiser?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  Dreiser's  a  crook,"  said  Delia  calmly. 
"He's  just  an  all-around  grafter.  He's  a  thief 
and  a  liar.  He  has  women,  too.  He'll  end  up  In 
jail." 

"For  mercy's  sake,"  said  Billy,  pop-eyed. 

Miss  Perkins  began  to  gather  up  her  wraps, 
preparatory  to  departure. 

"Weren't  you  afraid  to  come  to  me  with  this?" 
said  Billy. 

"No,"  said  Miss  Perkins,  In  a  considering  way. 
"I  know  you're  straight.  I  don't  pretend  to  be 
up  In  G  in  education,  but  I  think  there's  one  thing 
I've  learned  in  my  business  career,  and  that's  how 
to  tell  a  crook  from  a  straight  person.  I  wouldn't 
like  to  have  you  use  my  name  for  the  next  three 
months.  After  that  I  don't  care.  I'm  going  to 
quit  anyway  then.  My  sister  runs  a  boarding 
house,  and  she's  done  so  well  that  when  her  lease 
expires  she's  going  to  take  a  larger  house  and  I'm 
going  in  with  her." 

Mrs.  Pennington  entered  with  a  large,  round, 
fat,  luxuriant  chocolate  layer  cake  in  one  hand, 
and  a  hissing  tea  urn  in  the  other.  Behind  her 
walked  Blink,  a  large,  bossy-looking  white  cat, 
stepping  with  all  the  assured  Importance  of  a 
household  tyrant.  Behind  him  crept  Petle,  a 
humble  little  yellow  cat,  who  had  crawled  In  off 


BILLY  ACQUIRES    HER   FIRST   DISCIPLE         73 

the  Street  and  refused  to  go  away,  but  always 
knew  his  place  and  kept  it. 

*'Tea  and  cats,"  said  Billy;  "old  maids'  Para- 
dise." 

"They  ain't  never  made  so  much  trouble  as 
whiskey  and  horses,"  said  the  Perkins  girl. 


CHAPTER   VI 

In  Which  Billy  Gains  Newspaper  Experi- 
ence AND  Becomes  a  Receiver 
OF  Stolen  Property 

IT  Is  a  curious  fact  that  no  one  ever  started  as 
the  leader  of  a  forlorn  hope  without  encoun- 
tering sympathy,  aid  and  support  which  he  never 
expected,  and  of  whose  existence  he  was  unaware. 

Perhaps  the  reason  Is  that  any  person  who  will 
lead  a  forlorn  hope  Is  a  personality  which  will 
attract  followers.  Perhaps  It  Is  that  any  long- 
standing abuse  has  created  Its  own  harvest  of 
smouldering  resentment,  ready  to  break  out  when 
a  leader  arises. 

Cowardice  being  the  leading  characteristic  of 
the  human  race,  especially  In  combination  with 
its  perfectly  respectable  sisters,  Prudence  and 
Horse  Sense,  it  Is  remarkable  how  long  people 
win  suffer  oppression  without  rebellion.  But 
when  things  get  to  the  breaking  point  there  are 
always  plenty  of  the  oppressed  who  will  covertly 
hold  the  coat  of  the  man  who  will  come  forward 
to  do  the  fighting  and  risk  the  licking. 

The  Perkins  girl  was  the  first  of  Billyhs  crop 
74 


BILLY   GAINS    NEWSPAPER    EXPERIENCE         75 

of  followers.  Billy  held  further  conversations 
with  her,  and  others  came  to  her  house  and  told 
her  things.  Her  stock  of  material  increased  won- 
derfully, and  she  held  back  her  screeds  to  the  pa- 
pers until  she  could  incorporate  it  all.  Her  letters 
to  the  Board  she  had  sent  immediately. 

While  she  was  working  on  her  statements  to 
the  press,  Miss  Forrest  called  her  into  the  office 
one  day.  She  did  not  say,  *'Billy,  there's  some- 
thing I  want  to  talk  over  with  you,"  In  her  old 
way.  She  did  not  even  ask  Billy  to  sit  down. 
Instead,  she  let  her  stand  before  the  desk  and 
said  formally, 

"Miss  Pennington,  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  your 
class  work  Is  falling  below  standard.  I  shall  not 
be  able  to  recommend  you  for  reappointment  un- 
less you  bring  it  up  to  grade  during  the  remainder 
of  the  year." 

Billy  was  silent  for  a  moment,  while  this 
dropped  down  and  assimilated.  Then  she  said 
gently, 

"You  are  my  principal,  Miss  Forrest.  Will 
you  advise  me  how  I  can  bring  my  work  up  to 
grade?" 

"I  would  advise  you  to  devote  more  attention 
to  it,"  replied  Miss  Forrest  coldly,  without  rais- 
ing her  eyes. 

Billy  swallowed  hard. 

"Have  you  noticed  me  loafing  In  the  school- 
room. Miss  Forrest?"  she  said;  "or  getting  away 


y6  CRAYON   CLUE 

before  half  past  five  or  six  o'clock  at  night  very 
often?" 

"No,"  replied  Miss  Forrest,  "but  the  time  put 
in  at  school  work,  or  even  the  labor.  Is  not  the 
only  thing  that  tells.  The  vitality  and  freshness 
the  teacher  brings  to  It  are  even  more  Important. 
When  the  teacher's  mind  Is  distracted  with  out- 
side Interests  she  cannot  give  the  best  of  herself 
to  her  work.  And  our  work  demands  the  best 
that  Is  In  us.  We  defraud  the  children  when  we 
give  them  a  divided  Interest.  I  am  sure  you  feel 
that,  Miss  Pennington." 

Billy  experienced  a  feeling  of  nausea. 

*'0h,  Miss  Forrest,"  she  pleaded;  "we've  been 
friends  for  a  long  time.  Do  let's  be  frank  with 
each  other." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Miss  Penning- 
ton. I  am  perfectly  frank  with  you.  You  are 
letting  your  resentment  against  your  superiors  in 
office  detract  from  your  value  as  a  teacher.  You 
are  expending  so  much  vitality  In  useless  anger 
against  them,  and  talking  and  writing  so  much 
about  it  outside,  that  you  are  forgetting  your  real 
duty,  your  only  duty,  which  Is  to  devote  your  en- 
tire energies  to  the  pupils  under  your  care." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  Billy. 

"I  was  sure  you  would,"  said  the  principal. 
"As  you  know,  I  have  always  Inculcated  the  mis- 
sionary spirit  In  my  teachers.  You  have  always 
had  a  great  deal  of  it,  and  I  am  sure  It  will  re- 


BILLY  GAINS   NEWSPAPER   EXPERIENCE         77 

turn  to  you  when  you  free  your  mind  from  the 
useless  feelings  of  dissatisfaction  which  have 
filled  It.  ^Thoughts  are  things,*  and  thoughts  of 
anger  and  hatred  rebound  upon  ourselves." 

A  mocking  light  shone  In  Billy's  brown  eye. 

"I'll  try  to  remember,  Miss  Forrest,"  said  she 
genially;  '*thank  you  so  much  for  giving  me  such 
a  nice  lesson." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Miss  Forrest;  "I  shall  be 
amply  repaid  if  you  will  profit  by  it." 

Billy  stared  at  her.  Then  she  went  away  more 
in  sorrow  than  in  anger.  She  was  sorry  for  Miss 
Forrest,  and  not  at  all  angry  at  her.  Neverthe- 
less she  felt  a  sort  of  disgust  for  the  principal. 

"TheyVe  got  her,"  she  said  to  Ethel  later. 
"She's  gone  over  to  the  Dreiser  outfit  boots  and 
saddle.  Probably  they  told  her  she'd  get  hers  if 
she  didn't.  This  threat  was  sent  to  me  because  I 
wrote  the  letters  to  the  Board.  Old  Jennie 
wouldn't  do  it  himself.  With  a  refinement  of 
meanness  he  had  to  force  Miss  Forrest,  who  has 
been  my  friend,  to  do  it.  I  wouldn't  mind  her 
going  over,  if  she'd  only  be  frank  about  it.  If 
she'd  said,  *Billy,  you  know  I'm  with  you,  but  I 
can't  lose  my  job.  If  you  write  any  more  letters 
to  the  Board  they'll  make  me  fire  you.  I  can't 
help  you  and  there's  no  use  my  getting  fired  with 
you.'  If  she'd  said  that,  I'd  have  loved  her  just 
the  same.    But  'missionary  spirit.'    Yah." 

"You  can't  expect  a  person  like  Miss  Forrest  to 


78  CRAYON   CLUE 

do  things  as  a  crook  like  Dreiser  would,"  replied 
Ethel.  "She's  got  to  salve  her  conscience  and 
make  herself  believe  she's  acting  for  your  good 
and  the  good  of  the  schools.  People  who  arc 
naturally  good  In  their  Instincts,  but  cowards,  al- 
ways do  that  way." 

Billy  had  great  faith  In  the  personal  interview, 
despite  her  Inconspicuous  success  along  this  line 
with  Messrs.  Brackett  and  Dreiser,  so  she  once 
more  arrayed  herself  In  her  velvet  splendor  when 
her  material  for  the  press  was  ready,  and  sought 
Interviews  with  the  editors  of  all  the  dally  papers 
In  Bartown. 

There  were  nine  of  these,  printed  In  English, 
but  six  of  them  emanated  from  three  offices,  these 
companies  Issuing  both  morning  and  evening  edi- 
tions. One  of  the  remaining  three  was  the  great 
Forum,  the  Thunderer  of  Bartown,  which  had 
never  instituted  an  evening  paper,  and  two  others 
were  evening  dallies. 

Billy  had  carefully  prepared  in  typewritten 
manuscript  a  full  account  of  the  closing  of  the 
seventy-nine  rooms,  and  what  It  meant  to  over 
4,000  children  directly  affected  and  some  20,000 
indirectly  so;  of  the  schoolbook  matter,  illus- 
trated by  the  copybook  incident;  of  the  chalk  and 
its  demoralizing  Influence;  of  the  Harcourt  inci- 
dent. She  added  typewritten  copies  of  the  Hicks 
letter  and  the  receipted  bill. 

She  expected  to  see  all  this  material  within  a 


BILLY   GAINS    NEWSPAPER    EXPERIENCE         79 

few  weeks  spread  upon  the  first  page  of  one  of 
the  city  dallies,  in  the  form  of  a  great  sensational 
illustrated  story.  Her  only  doubt  was  as  to  which 
would  take  it  up.  Her  personal  preference  was 
for  the  Forum,  and  she  disliked  to  think  that  per- 
haps she  might  have  to  give  it  to  one  of  the  yel- 
low journals.  She  felt  that  if  the  standing,  the 
influence,  the  dignity  of  the  Forum  could  be 
brought  to  the  backing  of  her  cause,  the  latter 
was  as  good  as  won.  The  whole  crusade  would 
be  shifted  from  her  humble  shoulders  to  the 
broad  and  mighty  ones  of  the  great  paper. 

So  she  called  on  the  Forum  first.  She  had  no 
reason  to  complain  of  lack  of  attention.  The 
office  boy,  it  is  true,  met  her  with  the  natural 
hauteur  of  his  caste,  so  much  above  that  of  the 
mere  writer,  but  Billy  had  not  handled  the  youth- 
ful male  for  years  for  nothing.  He  was  soon 
talking  it  over  with  her  in  an  almost  human  way. 

A  reporter  speedily  came  out,  sent  by  an  assist- 
ant city  editor  on  the  office  boy's  guarantee  that 
there  was  a  girl  out  there  with  a  story. 

When  the  reporter  saw  what  she  had  his  eyes 
stuck  out. 

"Gee  whiz,"  said  he;  "just  let  me  show  that  to 
the  city  editor." 

He  disappeared  with  the  typewritten  sheets, 
and  shortly  after  showed  her  into  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts within.  The  city  editor  was  a  thin,  young- 
ish, tired-looking  man.    He  listened  to  all  she  had 


8o  CRAYON    CLUE 

to  say  in  silence,  fingering  and  glancing  at  the 
sheets  of  her  manuscript  meanwhile. 

*'0f  course  I  don't  expect  you  to  use  what  I 
have  written  there,'*  said  Billy  eagerly.  It  was 
the  chance  of  her  life.  She  had  at  last  got  a  per- 
son in  power  to  listen  who  was  beyond  the  night- 
shade influence  of  the  Bartown  school  manage- 
ment. 

"I  know,"  she  bubbled,  "that  I  can't  write." 
"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  remarked  the  city 
editor. 

"Oh,  that's  nice  of  you,"  dimpled  Billy  Pen; 
"but  of  course  I've  merely  set  down  what  I  knew. 
You  will  transform  it  into  a  great  newspaper 
story.  I  know  when  we  gave  our  big  fair  in  the 
Teachers'  Association  how  anxious  the  reporters 
were  for  something  that  would  make  a  real  story; 
something  interesting  and  sensational,  you  know. 
And  everybody  says  that  bridge  steal  scandal  that 
the  Forum  reported  was  the  biggest  newspaper 
story  ever  published  in  Bartown.  But  I  believe 
this  would  be  even  bigger  yet,  don't  you?" 
"I  think  it  might,"  admitted  the  editor. 
"Of  course  you'd  come  and  get  photographs  of 
the  boards  loaded  with  the  chalk  marks  that  won't 
rub  out,"  babbled  Billy  happily;  "and  you  could 
send  a  reporter  to  sit  in  the  schoolrooms  and 
watch  the  children  at  the  boards  and  see  them  try 
to  write.  And  you  could  interview  Miss  Har- 
court  and  the  head  doctor  out  at  the  Jackson  San- 


BILLY  GAINS   NEWSPAPER   EXPERIENCE         8 1 

itarium.  He  says  she's  just  as  sane  as  anybody, 
and  never  was  anything  else.  And  you  could  put 
in  the  story  of  her  life.  I  think  that  would  give 
so  much  human  interest  to  the  story,  don't  you?" 

"Yes,"  admitted  the  city  editor,  "I  think  it 
would." 

"It  was  the  death  of  those  people,  the  death 
caused  by  the  steal  in  the  construction,  that  gave 
the  bridge  story  so  much  human  interest,"  con- 
fided Billy.  "Of  course  nobody's  been  killed  in 
the  schools  yet,  though  we're  all  almost  dead,  but 
this  thing  is  so  much  wider,  touches  so  many  thou- 
sands of  people  all  over  the  city,  that  I  think  it 
would  be  even  more  exciting  than  the  bridge  story, 
don't  you?" 

The  city  editor  said  it  might. 

"Why,  every  teacher  in  Bartown  would  send 
out  and  buy  the  paper  that  had  it  in,"  declared 
Billy  excitedly;  "there  are  nearly  5,000  teachers 
in  Bartown.  And  every  English-speaking  person 
that  has  a  child  in  school  would  want  a  copy. 
There  are  200,000  children  in  the  schools.  Why, 
you'd  want  an  extra  edition." 

"Yes,"  said  the  editor,  "that's  perfectly  true." 
"Then  if  you  took  up  the  crusade,  as  you  did  on 
the  bridge  steal,"  said  Billy  earnestly,  "just  think 
what  a  sensation  it  would  make.  It  would  be  tele- 
graphed all  over  the  United  States.  It  would 
make  the  Forum  more  famous  than  it  ever  was 
before;  and  just  think  what  good  it  would  do." 


82  CRAYON   CLUE 

Billy  clasped  her  little  hands  in  their  brown 
suede  gloves,  and  her  small,  eager  face  took  on 
a  longing  look  that  made  it  adorable. 

"It's  not  merely  a  matter  of  saving  the  tax- 
payers' money  and  preventing  graft,"  said  she. 
"It's  a  thing  that  touches  thousands  of  lives. 
Thousands  of  teachers  are  being  made  miserable 
and  wretched  by  the  burdens  put  on  them,  and 
many  of  them  are  going  to  break  down  under  it 
as  Miss  Harcourt  did.  Thousands  of  children  of 
the  poor,  who  never  will  have  any  chance  in  life 
except  the  poor  little  bit  of  education  they  get 
with  us,  are  having  that  one  chance  injured  and 
reduced.  The  Forum  could  remove  this  blight 
from  the  schools ;  the  Forum  alone.  The  Forum 
could  give  us  back  the  old  happy  times  we  used 
to  have  under  Dr.  Haswell.  Isn't  it  wonderful 
to  have  so  much  power  I" 

The  city  editor,  who  had  been  staring  at  Billy, 
rose  suddenly,  somewhat  as  if  he  couldn't  stand 
it  any  longer. 

"If  you  will  wait  a  moment,"  he  said  formally, 
"I  would  like  to  have  our  managing  editor  see 
this." 

He  went  away  with  her  manuscript,  and  left 
her  for  quite  a  long  time,  it  seemed  to  her. 
Finally  he  came  back  and  ushered  her  into  a 
rather  imposing  office,  furnished  with  mahogany, 
with  a  handsome  rug  on  the  floor  and  oil  paint- 
ings on  the  wall.     An  old  gentleman  with  white 


BILLY  GAINS   NEWSPAPER   EXPERIENCE         83 

hair  and  fine  delicate  wrinkles  rose  and  shook 
hands  with  her.  In  the  fleeting  glimpse  she 
caught  of  him  Billy  got  an  impression  that  he  was 
like  a  French  marquis ;  but  he  immediately  seated 
her  in  a  chair  where  a  glare  from  the  window  fell 
full  upon  her  face,  while  of  his  own  countenance, 
against  this  blare  of  light,  she  could  distinguish 
not  a  single  feature,  much  less  the  expression.  It 
was  almost  like  talking  with  some  one  in  the  dark. 

"Ah,  Miss  Pennington,"  he  said  pleasantly, 
"this  is  a  very  interesting  story  you  have  brought 
us.    Did  you  want  pay  for  this?" 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Billy,  horrified;  "of  course  not. 
I  shall  be  only  too  thankful  if  you  will  take  it  up 
and  start  a  crusade." 

"I  see.  Of  course  you  understand  that  to  do 
that  we  would  have  to  have  proofs  which  would 
stand  in  court.  Do  I  understand  you  to  say  that 
you  have  the  originals  of  these  documentary 
proofs?" 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed." 

"Those  would  be  very  important  papers,  you 
know.  Pardon  me  for  the  suggestion,  but  I  hope 
you  keep  them  in  a  safe  place." 

"In  a  safety  deposit  box,"  said  Billy  confidently. 

"Ah.    You  have  a  safety  deposit  box?" 

"No,  but  a  friend  of  mine  has.  He  lets  me 
keep  them  there." 

"Ah,  yes;  and  who  is  he?" 

Billy  hesitated. 


84  CRAYON   CLUE 

"I'd  rather  not  say  that,"  she  said;  "I  will  show 
you  the  originals,  if  it  is  necessary  before  pub- 
lishing." 

"I  see.  And  who  secured  these  originals  for 
you?" 

"I  couldn't  tell  that  either,"  said  Billy. 

"But — ah — pardon  me.  Miss  Pennington,  but 
as  these  documents  must  have  been  stolen,  do  you 
not  lay  yourself  open  to  grave  charges  by  not 
telling  how  they  came  into  your  possession?" 

"I  wish  Dreiser  would  have  me  arrested  for 
stealing  them,"  said  Billy  vindictively;  "I  bet 
some  things  would  come  out  on  the  witness  stand 
that  would  make  him  sick." 

"Ah,  I  see,"  said  the  marquis  benignly.  "Well, 
Miss  Pennington,  we  will  look  into  this  matter 
and  if  we  decide  to  go  on  with  it  we  will  let  you 
know.  We  shall  need  a  great  deal  of  help  from 
you,  you  know.  Of  course  you  understand  that 
if  this  story  were  not  well  supported  it  would  ren- 
der us  liable  to  a  suit  for  damages,  so  it  will 
require  some  little  time  to  look  it  up." 

That  was  all.  He  got  up  and  walked  to  the 
door  with  her,  shook  hands  again,  held  the  door 
open  for  her,  paid  her  a  little  compliment.  Billy 
trod  on  air  as  she  went  away.  Her  eyes  shone, 
her  cheeks  were  flushed,  and  she  was  filled  with 
excitement  at  the  thought  of  her  success. 

It  was  Saturday,  the  teacher's  day  for  attend- 
ing to  extraneous  matters.     She  knew  the  story 


BILLY   GAINS   NEWSPAPER   EXPERIENCE         85 

could  not  appear  the  next  morning,  but  she  fully 
expected  to  see  It  spread  all  over  the  front  page 
of  the  Forum  the  following  Sunday.  All  that 
week  she  looked  for  a  communication  from  the 
Forum,  Every  time  anyone  knocked  at  her  door 
she  thought  It  was  a  reporter  from  the  Forum, 
Every  time  she  was  called  to  the  phone,  she  ex- 
pected a  message  from  the  marquis,  or  the  young- 
ish, tired-looking  man. 

But  Saturday  came,  and  no  message  had 
reached  her.  The  moment  she  awoke  Sunday 
morning  she  flung  on  stockings,  slippers  and  ki- 
mono and  stole  down  to  the  vestibule  of  the  apart- 
ment house  In  which  she  lived  to  get  the  Forum 
which  she  had  ordered  delivered.  She  turned 
page  after  page  with  a  sinking  heart.  It  was  not 
in.  Then  she  went  back  and  searched  the  smaller 
items,  the  editorial.     But  there  was  not  a  word. 

This,  with  variations  which  are  irrelevant  and 
immaterial,  was  Billy's  experience  with  the  vari- 
ous conservative  daily  papers  of  Bartown.  She 
visited  them  all  in  turn,  and  was  always  met  with 
politeness  and  attention.  The  editors  seemed 
perfectly  willing  to  spend  time  with  her.  Some 
of  them  talked  with  her  about  the  conditions  in 
the  schools,  and  seemed  deeply  interested. 

All  this  fussing  with  the  papers  took  time. 
When  the  second  Sunday  and  then  the  third  had 
gone  by  with  nothing  published  In  the  Forum,  she 
visited  that  office  again.     This  time  she  was  not 


86  CRAYON   CLUE 

received.  The  city  editor  sent  out  a  civil  message 
that  he  was  sorry,  but  was  too  busy  to  see  her 
that  day.  She  called  again.  He  was  not  in.  Still 
again,  and  that  time  came  the  bald  statement  that 
the  Forum  had  decided  not  to  take  up  the  matter. 

It  seemed  to  Billy  that  she  would  never  get 
over  the  disappointment  of  that  moment.  She 
got  the  same  statement  from  two  or  three  other 
papers,  then  stopped  asking.  It  was  borne  in 
upon  her  that  the  conservative  papers  of  Bar- 
town  did  not  intend  to  take  up  the  matter.  If 
the  Forum,  the  best  of  them,  would  not  touch  it, 
she  felt  convinced  that  none  of  the  others  would. 
The  Forum,  the  pioneer  daily  of  the  city,  was  the 
one  which  was  supposed  to  consider  patriotism, 
the  public  welfare,  and  things  of  that  kind  in  its 
policy.  It  was  intensely  conservative,  the  family 
paper  of  the  rich  people  generally  in  Bartown, 
and  of  the  church  element  In  particular. 

It  had  conducted  some  very  effective  investiga- 
tions Into  the  conduct  of  local  affairs;  had  ex- 
posed and  remedied  various  abuses.  It  had  never 
been  defeated  when  it  went  after  a  thing  of  this 
kind.  The  pioneer  paper  of  the  city  and  for  years 
its  only  one,  it  had  grown  up  with  the  town  and 
was  read  by  all  the  old-timers. 

The  old-timers  in  any  American  city  are  usu- 
ally wealthy.  Some  of  the  first  settlers,  of  course, 
do  not  survive.  They  wander  away  to  stake  other 
claims,  and  prospect  other  lodes.    But  those  who 


BILLY   GAINS   NEWSPAPER   EXPERIENCE         87 

have  stuck  have  money  and  own  all  the  best  build- 
ing lots  in  town.  By  this  element  In  Bartown  the 
Forum  was  adored. 

The  Forum  took  Itself  with  deadly  seriousness. 
The  editorial  In  which  It  advised  Oom  Paul  what 
to  do  after  the  English  had  relieved  him  of  his 
job  was  a  model  of  counsel  to  defeated  rulers.  It 
was  not  above  handing  out  kindly  advice  to  the 
German  emperor  as  to  his  duty  on  occasion,  and 
it  reproved  Tsl  An  In  a  manner  which  delighted 
every  foreign  missionary  In  the  United  States  who 
was  home  for  a  furlough.  But  whatever  else  it 
did  It  always  stood  for  Bartown  and  Bartown's 
interests ;  and  It  seemed  to  Billy  that  the  hurt  she 
got  when  that  cold  message  came  out  to  her  would 
never  quite  heal  over. 

After  that  the  disappointments  from  the  other 
old  line  papers  were  small.  She  expected  noth- 
ing from  them  when  their  leader  declined  action. 
She  saw  regretfully  that  she  must  turn  to  the  yel- 
lows. 

The  yellows  were  two,  a  morning  and  an  even- 
ing, started  within  a  few  years  past  by  a  man  who 
owned  a  chain  of  saffron  sheets.  They  had 
thrown  large  stones  Into  the  calm  pool  of  Bar- 
town  affairs.  They  had  stirred  depths  of  mud 
and  settlings  that  amazed  all  hands,  were  hated 
and  execrated  by  all  truly  Christian  people,  had 
been  excluded  from  the  libraries,  and  were  read 
in  all  street  cars  and  saloons.    Billy  hated  to  go 


88  CRAYON   CLUE 

to  them,  because  she  feared  It  would  give  her 
crusade  a  black  eye  from  the  start  if  it  were  taken 
up  by  them;  but  she  certainly  never  expected 
that  they  would  turn  It  down. 

She  never  even  got  an  interview  at  this  office. 
She  never  got  beyond  the  office  boy,  a  man  In  this 
case,  who  would  not  take  In  her  name  with  re- 
quest for  an  audience,  but  demanded  her  manu- 
script. In  two  minutes  he  brought  this  back  and 
tossed  It  down  before  her  with  the  indifferent  re- 
mark, "Nothln*  doln'.'' 

Billy  went  away  stunned.  As  a  last  resort  she 
wrote  a  personal  letter  to  the  editor  of  each  pa- 
per, enclosing  a  signed  statement  of  the  case,  and 
asking  them  to  publish  it  as  a  letter  from  her- 
self. 

Some  of  these  manuscripts  were  returned  with- 
out a  word.  Others  enclosed  a  printed  slip,  de- 
clining her  contribution  with  regret,  and  begging 
her  to  believe  that  the  crowded  state  of  their  col- 
umns, rather  than  any  fault  of  her  material,  pre- 
vented Its  use.  Others  did  not  return  it  at  all, 
while  others  returned  her  own  letter  with  her 
manuscript,  which  seemed  to  Billy  the  worst  in- 
sult of  all. 

Billy  was  in  despair,  but  her  discouragement 
was  almost  lost  In  her  perplexity. 

"I  can't  understand,"  she  said  to  Delia  Perkins, 
whom  she  had  consulted  In  the  preparation  of  her 


BILLY   GAINS   NEWSPAPER   EXPERIENCE         89 

Statement  for  the  press,  and  who  came  to  see  her 
often  nowadays. 

"I  cannot  understand  how  Dreiser  can  control 
the  papers,"  she  repeated.  "He's  not  rich  enough 
to  do  that,  even  with  all  his  grafting.  I  have 
looked  up  the  owners  of  the  papers.  Not  one  of 
them  Is  on  the  school  board  or  has  anything  to 
do  with  school  buildings  or  school  supplies,  so  far 
as  appears.  Of  course  some  of  them  might  have, 
on  the  side,  but  It  Isn't  possible  all  of  them  have. 
It  doesn't  seem  as  If  advertising  considerations 
could  have  anything  to  do  with  It.  I  know  it's  a 
sensational  story.  All  sorts  of  reasons  that  I 
don't  know  anything  about  might  have  kept  it  out 
of  any  one  of  these  papers.  But  I  cannot  Imagine 
any  one  reason  that  would  have  kept  It  out  of  all 
of  them.  And  that's  what  has  happened. 
They've  been  silenced,  all  of  them.  It's  a  mys- 
tery. Well,  it's  no  go,  Delia.  If  the  papers  won't 
help  us  we  can't  do  anything." 

The  tears  rose  to  Billy's  brown  eyes. 

"The  game's  up,  Delia,"  she  said  chokingly. 
"There's  no  help  for  the  teachers.  There's  no 
help  for  the  children.  Nobody  who  has  power 
enough  to  do  anything  will  take  It  up." 

Delia  Perkins  did  not  say  much,  for  she  was 
a  young  person  who  found  It  singularly  difficult 
to  express  what  passed  for  emotion  in  her  un- 
plumbed  interior.     But  she  laid  an  arm  around 


90  CRAYON   CLUE 

Billy's  shaking  shoulders,  and  Billy  laid  her 
golden  head  against  the  homely  girl's  breast. 

"I'll  never  forget  you,  Delia  Perkins,'*  she 
sobbed;  ^'you're  the  best  friend  and  the  smartest 
girl  I  ever  knew.  You've  got  brains,  and  you've 
got  sand,  and  that's  more  than  most  of  the  peo- 
ple on  this  earth  have  got." 

A  sort  of  convulsion  seized  the  stern  young 
countenance  of  Delia  Perkins.  She  came  from 
North  of  England  factory  stock.  A  more  un- 
suave,  unpolished  and  undiplomatic  stock  does  not 
exist  on  earth.  Its  manners  are  not  good,  but  it 
has  been  the  backbone  of  most  of  the  reforms 
that  have  been  established  in  England.  It  was 
apparently  impossible  for  Delia  to  speak  comfort- 
ing words.  She  could  not  even  cry  gracefully. 
While  Billy  was  a  Niobe  in  her  tears,  a  lovely 
picture  of  quivering  grief.  Miss  Perkins  looked 
as  though  something  she  had  eaten  were  disagree- 
ing with  her  intensely. 

But  she  looked  down  on  that  golden  head  with 
something  tigerishly  maternal  in  her  keen  grey 
eyes.  Homely  girls  like  compliments  as  well  as 
pretty  ones,  and  mighty  few  compliments  had  ever 
come  Delia  Perkins'  way.  It  was  a  wonderful 
compliment  when  lovely,  popular  Miss  Pennington 
praised  her  so  highly,  and  cried  upon  her  bosom. 

She  left  without  saying  much,  but  the  very  next 
evening  she  came  back  to  the  house  and  handed 
out  to  Billy  without  a  word  a  large  flat  envelope 


BILLY   GAINS    NEWSPAPER    EXPERIENCE         9 1 

of  the  kind  used  as  magazine  wrappers.  Inside 
was  a  quantity  of  loose  typewritten  sheets,  all  let- 
ters; some  signed,  which  had  evidently  come 
through  the  mail;  others  unsigned,  evidently  car- 
bon duplicates  of  letters  dictated. 

Billy  looked  them  all  over  carefully.  It  was 
correspondence  between  Dreiser  and  various  com- 
panies, chiefly  the  Columbian  Book  and  the 
Northwestern  Supply.  The  letters  from  the  com- 
panies were  as  they  had  come  through  the  mail. 
The  letters  of  Dreiser  were  unsigned,  evidently 
copies  of  letters  dictated  by  him  preserved  for 
reference  purposes.  They  concerned  rebates  and 
other  things.  One  referred  to  the  discharge  of 
Mrs.  Merrill.  None  told  very  much  by  itself. 
To  an  ignorant  person  they  would  have  meant 
nothing.  In  the  hands  of  a  skilled  lawyer,  with 
all  the  ends  of  the  tangle  in  his  hands,  they  would 
have  been  damning  evidence. 

Billy  looked  up  aghast. 

*'Della,  where  did  you  get  these?"  she  said. 

"Stole  them,"  said  Delia. 

There  was  silence  for  a  minute. 

Then,  ''Go  on,  tell  it,"  said  Billy. 

"Well,  I  know  the  inside  of  Dreiser's  office  like 
my  own  bedroom,"  said  Delia.  "I  know  that 
when  he's  there  he  often  stays  late  working,  and 
some  one  always  has  to  stay  with  him.  But  when 
he's  out  of  town  everybody  in  that  office  is  out- 
side the  door  on  the  stroke  of  five. 


92  CRAYON   CLUE 

"Well,  Dreiser  is  out  of  town.  He  went  to 
New  York  two  days  ago,  and  he  isn't  expected 
back  till  the  end  of  the  week.  By  half  past  ^ve 
everybody  is  pretty  well  out  of  that  building.  But 
it  isn't  shut  up,  because  people  are  always  linger- 
ing about  some  of  the  offices.  The  elevators  are 
still  running.  Nobody  ever  pays  any  attention  to 
me  up  there.  I  worked  in  the  building  three 
years,  and  I  have  been  up  there  since  on  errands 
for  Brackett. 

*'When  I  went  in  I  says  to  the  elevator  man,  'J 
wonder  if  there's  anyone  left  up  in  the  building 
committee's  room,'  I  says.  He  says,  *I  couldn't 
say,  I  seen  a  bunch  of  'em  go  down,  but  there 
might  be  some  of  'em  left,'  he  says.  'I'll  just  go 
up  and  see,'  says  I. 

''So  I  gets  off  at  the  building  committee  floor 
and  walks  down  the  long  hall  towards  that  office. 
Down  at  the  end  of  that  hall  there's  a  door  into 
a  cleaner's  room,  and  from  that  room  there  are 
back  stairs  clear  up  and  down  the  building,  for 
the  help  to  use,  running  into  a  cleaner's  room  on 
each  floor,  where  they  keep  their  pails  and  mops 
and  things.  I  walked  up  one  flight  to  Dreiser's 
floor  and  tried  the  door.  If  there'd  been  any  of 
the  bunch  there,  I'd  have  just  sat  down  and  had 
a  talkfest.  But  the  door  was  locked,  so  I  just 
went  in  with  my  key." 

"Your  key?" 

"I  never  gave  it  up  when  I  came  away.    I  for- 


BILLY   GAINS    NEWSPAPER   EXPERIENCE         93 

got  it,  and  no  one  ever  asked  for  it.  No  one 
ever  minds  about  those  things  up  there.  There^s 
nothing  to  steal  but  the  office  fixtures,  you  know. 

"I  kept  all  Dreiser's  correspondence  in  alpha- 
betical file  books,  a  copy  of  each  letter  he  wrote, 
with  the  letter  it  was  in  answer  to,  or  the  letter 
that  came  back  in  answer  to  it,  under  the  first  let- 
ter of  the  correspondent's  last  name.  He  keeps 
those  file  books  in  a  bookcase  with  glass  doors  be- 
side his  desk,  where  he  can  swing  around  and  open 
it  and  take  out  any  one  he  wants.  The  doors  are 
locked  at  night,  but  I  know  how  to  pick  the  lock 
with  wire.  I've  done  it  before  when  he's  gone  out 
of  town  and  forgotten  to  leave  me  the  key." 

"Good  gracious,  what  carelessness,"  breathed 
Billy. 

"I  told  you  he  was  careless,"  said  Delia,  *'but 
then  unless  anybody  knew  exactly  where  to  look 
for  those  letters  they  might  hunt  for  hours  with- 
out finding  them.  Of  course,  I  didn't  know 
whether  I'd  find  them  where  I  left  them,  but  they 
were  there  all  right.  Then  as  to  carelessness,  those 
letters  would  be  no  good  to  people  who  didn't  un- 
derstand matters.  I  expect  Dreiser  fixed  up  all 
those  things  by  word  of  mouth,  and  these  letters 
just  happened  to  come  along  afterward  in  the 
course  of  business." 

"All  that,"  said  Billy,  "narrows  down  the  num- 
ber of  people  who  ever  could  or  would  have  taken 
them.    You  might  get  in  jail  for  this,  Delia." 


94  CRAYON  CLUE 

"Sure,"  said  Delia,  "if  they  ever  got  onto  me. 
But  it  may  be  months  before  Dreiser  ever  looks 
for  those  letters.  It  might  be  years,  or  never. 
Anyway,  it  won't  be  till  he  gets  home  from  New 
York,  and  I'll  risk  that  elevator  boy  remembering 
by  that  time  that  I  went  up  with  him  tonight.  Be- 
sides, why  should  anyone  think  of  me?  No  one 
connected  with  the  schools  knows  I'm  a  friend 
of  yours.  I  never  phone  you  from  school,  never 
see  you  at  school.  Of  course  if  our  relations  ever 
got  known  to  them  monkeys  they  might  suspect 
me,  but  they  never  could  prove  it." 

Billy  looked  relieved. 

"I'm  glad  if  you  think  it's  safe,  Delia,"  she 
said,  "but  it  took  a  lot  of  nerve  to  do  it,  all  the 
same.    How  did  you  ever  come  to  do  it,  Delia?" 

"I  thought  perhaps  if  you  had  more  evidence 
of  this  here  graft,"  said  Delia,  "that  maybe  the 
papers  would  help  you.  And  I  thought  you  might 
as  well  have  these  things  in  your  hands,  anyway." 

"You  risked  jail  for  me,"  said  Billy. 

The  homely  girl  looked  embarrassed. 

"I'd  risk  more'n  that  for  you,"  she  muttered. 

Some  people  can  inspire  personal  loyalty  be- 
cause they  themselves  are  capable  of  it.  Billy 
was  one  of  these.  The  moment  when  she  and 
Delia  Perkins  kissed  each  other  was  finer  in  its 
way  than  a  lover's  embrace,  because  their  feel- 
ing was  of  the  spirit  only. 


CHAPTER   VII 
In  Which  Billy  Commits  Personal  Violence 

ONE  salient  effect  of  Delia's  little  emulation 
of  the  second-story  man  was  to  give  Billy 
her  second  wind.  Her  first  had  given  out  hor- 
ribly after  her  final  conviction  that  the  papers 
would  do  nothing  for  her.  But  Delia's  act  of 
personal  devotion  braced  her  like  a  cool  wave 
in  August.  Neither  of  the  girls  had  any  more 
qualms  of  conscience  over  the  theft  of  the  letters 
than  if,  escaping  from  a  robber's  den,  they  had 
taken  along  some  of  the  buried  loot. 

Moreover,  the  cause  loomed  bigger  and  big- 
ger all  the  time,  and  took  deeper  possession  of 
Billy's  soul.  The  silencing  of  the  papers  showed 
her  that  it  was  something  incomparably  vaster 
than  she  had  supposed.  A  sense  of  something 
portentous  overshadowing  the  schools  took  pos- 
session of  her,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  in  the 
whole  city  of  Bartown  there  was  no  one  to  move 
in  the  matter  but  herself.  And  into  this  sombre 
sense  of  duty  and  necessity  was  injected  daily  the 
sharp   note   of  personal   resentment  and  anger 

95 


g6  CRAYON   CLUE 

which  IS  the  salt  and  savor  of  any  popular  move- 
ment. 

Since  there  seemed  nothing  to  do  in  other  di- 
rections she  devoted  all  her  attention  at  this  time 
to  the  Teachers'  Association.  The  Association 
had  a  great  deal  of  business  to  transact  because 
of  the  pension  fund,  which  it  was  pushing  as  hard 
as  possible.  Billy  had  been  a  tireless  committee 
worker  for  this  fund,  and  it  was  in  this  capacity 
that  she  had  acquired  two  things  very  valuable 
to  her  in  her  later  career;  the  power  to  stand  on 
her  feet  and  address  an  audience,  and  the  confi- 
dence and  affection  of  a  very  large  body  of  teach- 
ers. In  after  years  she  used  to  say  that  organi- 
zation makes  so  much  difference  in  women  that 
she  believed  that  the  members  of  a  Ladies'  Eu- 
chre Club  were  smarter  than  women  who  didn't 
belong  to  any  club  at  all. 

At  this  time,  in  November,  she  laid  before  the 
Association  a  draft  for  a  bill  to  be  introduced  in 
the  state  legislature,  which  would  convene  after 
New  Year's.  The  bill  proposed  to  provide  tenure 
of  office  for  the  teachers  of  the  state  as  follows : 

During  her  first  four  years  of  teaching  the  ap- 
pointment of  any  teacher  was  to  be  revocable  by 
the  board  of  education  at  pleasure.  Of  a  teacher 
who  had  had  previous  experience  elsewhere,  this 
should  be  true  for  two  years.  After  this  proba- 
tionary period  no  teacher  could  be  discharged 
without  a  full  statement  of  charges  in  writing, 


BILLY   COMMITS    PERSONAL   VIOLENCE         97 

with  full  Opportunity  for  the  teacher  to  appear 
in  answer  to  these  at  a  public  meeting  of  the 
board,  and  to  be  represented  by  a  lawyer  and  call 
witnesses  if  she  chose. 

Billy  presented  this  draft  to  the  Association  in 
an  able  speech.  She  said  in  substance  that  this 
law  would  merely  give  the  teacher  the  benefit  of 
publicity,  and  would  effectually  prevent  any  school 
board  from  discharging  a  teacher  for  reasons 
which  they  were  not  ready  to  discuss  and  defend 
in  public.  She  pointed  out  also  that  no  teacher 
aware  of  good  and  sufficient  reasons  for  her  dis- 
charge would  court  a  public  investigation. 

"The  basic  principle  underlying  this  bill,"  said 
she,  "is  that  we  are  not  employes  of  the  school 
board,  nor  of  our  principals  or  superintendents, 
in  any  such  sense  as  a  person  working  for  a  pri- 
vate corporation  is  an  employe.  These  people  are 
not  paying  their  own  money  to  us,  they  are  not 
employing  us  upon  their  business.  We  are,  all 
of  us,  school  boards,  superintendents,  principals 
and  teachers,  parts  of  the  common  school  system 
of  this  country.  We  attain  our  positions  in  that 
system  by  a  laborious  and  expensive  training,  re- 
quired by  law;  by  passing  certain  examinations, 
required  by  law.  Then  the  law  gives  us  no  pro- 
tection in  the  retention  of  those  positions.  We 
may  be  discharged  simply  because  we  have  of- 
fended some  one  over  us,  who  is  himself  an  em- 
ploye, and  who  may  not  know  any  more  about 


98  CRAYON    CLUE 

education  than  we  do.  We  may  lose  our  place  by 
offending  a  member  of  the  board  of  education, 
who  may  not  know  anything  at  all  about  educa- 
tion; or  because  some  member  of  the  board 
wishes  to  put  a  friend  or  relative  of  his  own  in 
our  place;  or  because  a  superintendent  wishes  to 
bring  in  people  of  his  own  to  supersede  perfectly 
good  and  competent  teachers  who  were  employed 
under  his  predecessor. 

**In  the  course  of  daily  classroom  work  we  at- 
tain a  certain  class  of  knowledge  about  this  busi- 
ness of  education  which  is  not  possessed  by  any 
other  constituent  element  of  the  school  system; 
that  knowledge  which  is  gained  only  through 
hourly  contact  with  the  children.  Of  all  who  are 
connected  with  the  schools,  It  is  we  who  know  the 
children  best,  and  the  actual  conditions  in  the 
schoolroom  best.  And  yet,  if  we  dare  to  offer  out 
of  this  knowledge  reasons  which  we  know  to  be 
well  founded  against  any  policy  adopted  by  the 
management,  we  are  in  danger  of  losing  our  posi- 
tions." 

There  was  not  a  teacher  In  the  room,  or  In  the 
Association  or  in  the  city  of  Bartown,  who  would 
have  dared  to  say  these  things.  They  gazed  at 
Billy  in  terror  and  admiration.  To  them  her 
fearlessness  seemed  superhuman,  and  they  loved 
her  for  it.  Really,  however,  there  was  nothing 
about  it  so  amazing  as  they  thought.  There  was 
nothing  the  school  management  of  Bartown  could 


BILLY   COMMITS   PEKSONAE  VIOLENCE         99 

do  to  Billy  except  deprive  her  of  her  position. 
She  had  made  up  her  mind  that  she  was  willing 
to  give  that  up,  and  as  soon  as  she  did  that  she 
had  nothing  more  to  be  afraid  of. 

"It  is  degrading  to  our  profession/'  she  con- 
tinued, "the  great  profession  of  training  and  edu- 
cating the  future  citizens  of  this  country;  it  is 
degrading  to  ourselves,  as  women  engaged  in  the 
most  important  business  in  this  country,  to  remain 
in  such  a  position.  Let  us  in  the  name  of  our 
own  self-respect,  in  the  name  of  the  welfare  of 
thousands  of  the  children  of  the  poor,  whom  we 
know  to  be  suffering  because  we  do  not  dare  to 
tell  what  we  know,  let  us  go  to  the  lawmakers 
of  our  state  and  demand  that  they  do  this  meas- 
ure of  justice. 

"There  are  other  laws  that  we  should  have. 
We  should  have  a  law  erecting  the  teaching  body 
of  any  city  into  a  council,  a  recognized  body  in 
the  school  system,  and  requiring  the  school  board 
to  take  cognizance  of  the  findings  of  this  coun- 
cil on  matters  which  come  within  the  scope  of  its 
members'  experience,  and  to  take  them  into  con- 
sideration in  deciding  the  policies  of  the  schools. 
We  ought  not  to  be  obliged  to  ask  to  be  heard, 
or  to  be  dependent  on  the  good  will  of  some  lib- 
eral-minded man  in  authority.  The  school  man- 
agement should  be  required  to  call  upon  this  great 
department  of  the  educational  system  for  its  find- 
ings; to  tap  this  rich  vein  of  teaching  experience 


lOO  CRAYON    CLUE 

for  the  benefit  of  the  schools;  to  take  cognizance 
of  our  opinions  on  books,  on  supplies,  on  every- 
thing connected  with  the  actual  work  of  teaching. 

"We  should  have  a  pension  law,  compelling 
every  teacher  retained  after  the  probationary 
period  to  join  the  pension  fund  and  pay  into  it 
a  certain  percentage  of  her  salary.  This  make- 
shift method  of  the  public-spirited  portion  of  the 
profession  striving  by  private  effort  to  place  the 
pension  system  on  a  sound  basis  is  totally  unfair 
and  totally  inadequate.  The  teacher  is  required 
to  live  in  a  way,  to  spend  in  a  way,  which  makes 
it  impossible  for  her  to  provide  adequately  for 
old  age.  Not  till  we  have  eliminated  this  grisly 
shadow  that  overhangs  all  of  us,  the  possibility 
of  a  penniless  superannuation,  will  our  profession 
be  lifted  to  the  plane  it  should  occupy. 

*'We  should  have  a  minimum  salary  law.  There 
are  foreigners  who  cannot  speak  one  word  of 
English,  feeding  the  pigs  in  the  rural  portions  of 
this  state,  who  are  paid  more  than  the  American 
girls  who  teach  the  children.  There  are  chauf- 
feurs in  every  city  who  receive  more  than  teach- 
ers in  the  high  schools  of  those  cities.  The 
woman  teacher  in  the  city  of  Bartown  begins  at 
a  salary  of  $600.  The  women  in  charge  of  the 
public  comfort  stations — the  public  water  closets 
— receive  $750. 

*'The  teacher  must  have  by  law  at  least  six 


BILLY   COMMITS    PERSONAL   VIOLENCE       lOI 

years  of  preliminary  training;  four  in  the  high 
school,  two  in  the  city  training  school. 

"The  matron  at  the  comfort  station  need  not 
know  how  to  read  or  write. 

"The  matron  at  the  comfort  station  may  go  to 
her  work  with  a  shawl  over  her  head. 

"The  teacher  who  did  such  a  thing  would  by 
that  act  insure  her  own  dismissal. 

"The  teacher  who  does  not  present  a  creditable 
appearance  in  dress  will  find  her  hold  on  her  posi- 
tion shaky,  no  matter  what  her  educational  ac- 
quirements. The  very  by-laws  of  the  Bartown 
Board  of  Education  state  that  'personality'  is  to 
count  for  one-third  the  marks  in  the  appointment 
of  a  teacher;  and  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
^personality,'  in  the  case  of  hiring  a  new  teacher, 
means  looks  and  clothes;  general  appearance. 

"The  telephone  girl  in  the  office  of  the  mayor 
of  Bartown  has  a  salary  of  $1,300  a  year,  and 
the  only  requirement  for  her  to  secure  her  place 
is  that  she  must  be  not  less  than  18  years  of  age. 
The  woman  teacher,  with  her  six  years  of  expen- 
sive training,  must  work  at  least  eight  years  be- 
fore she  can  receive  so  much.  The  scrub  woman 
appointed  at  the  city  hall  receives  $750  a  year. 

"Why  is  this  so?  Because  these  positions  are 
political  rewards.  They  are  given  to  the  women 
relatives  of  men  active  in  local  politics.  By  the 
very  fact  that  the  American  people  have  kept 
their  school  system  out  of  politics  to  an  extent  un- 


102  CRAYON   CLUE 

known  in  any  other  department  of  government — 
for  that  very  reason  the  compensation  of  the 
teacher  has  been  left  below  that  of  the  scrub 
woman.  There  is  no  one  to  remedy  this  anom- 
alous state  of  affairs  but  the  teachers  themselves. 
Who  would  be  free  himself  must  strike  the  blow.* 

"We  should  have  laws  covering  all  the  points 
that  I  have  outlined.  I  hope  the  Bartown  Teach- 
ers' Association  will  adopt  this  outline  as  a  pro- 
gramme; something  to  be  kept  in  view  and  worked 
for  year  after  year  until  at  last  the  teaching  pro- 
fession in  this  city  is  placed  in  a  position  safe,  se- 
cure and  respected,  which  it  certainly  is  not  to- 
day. But  since  one  bill  is  enough  to  begin  with, 
I  hope  you  will  take  for  our  first  venture  this 
tenure  of  office  bill. 

*'I  move,  Madam  Chairman,  that  this  Asso- 
ciation Introduce  a  tenure  of  office  bill  in  the  state 
legislature  this  winter.'' 

There  was  enthusiastic  applause,  a  dozen 
sprang  to  their  feet  to  second  the  motion,  which 
seemed  about  to  go  through  with  a  rush.  As  soon 
as  the  motion  was  stated,  however,  the  girl  from 
P.  S.  43,  whom  Miss  Forrest  had  once  called  a 
spy,  rose  and  addressed  the  chair. 

She  pointed  out  a  provision  in  the  constitution 
which  provided  that  "no  action  involving  legisla- 
tive action"  should  be  taken  by  the  Association 
excepting  at  a  meeting  at  which  two-thirds  of  the 
members  were  present.     There  was  a  great  rust- 


BILLY   COMMITS   PERSONAL   VIOLENCE       IO3 

ling  about  to  get  hold  of  copies  of  the  constitu- 
tion and  read  the  clause.  Her  statement  was 
found  correct. 

Billy  had  entirely  forgotten  the  provision,  but 
she  remembered  now  the  circumstances  of  its 
adoption,  years  before.  A  small  fraction  of  the 
members,  a  bare  quorum,  had  gotten  the  Asso- 
ciation into  hurried  and  ill-advised  action  over  the 
introduction  of  an  ordinance  in  the  city  council. 
The  Association  in  disgust  had  thereupon 
amended  its  constitution  in  such  a  way  that  a  bill 
could  never  again  be  introduced  in  its  name  with- 
out the  fact  being  generally  known  among  the 
members.  It  so  happened  that  never  since  had 
a  similar  proposal  been  made.  The  Association 
was  ten  times  larger  now  than  then,  and  it  was 
a  very  different  undertaking  to  get  two-thirds  of 
its  members  out  to  a  meeting. 

The  Association  had  been  trained  to  the  very 
careful  observance  of  the  legality  of  its  actions 
since  handling  the  money  of  the  pension  fund.  It 
had  fifteen  hundred  members.  Less  than  five 
hundred  were  present.  It  was  manifestly  impos- 
sible to  order  the  bill  drawn  that  day.  It  was 
voted,  however,  to  hold  a  meeting  the  following 
Saturday,  of  which  printed  notices,  setting  forth 
the  reasons  for  a  full  attendance,  should  be  mailed 
to  every  member. 

Though  sorely  disappointed  at  the  delay,  Billy 
cheerfully  admitted  its  necessity,  and  set  to  work 


I04  CRAYON   CLUE 

to  secure  a  full  attendance  at  the  next  meeting. 
But  in  vain.  Notices  were  sent  out  for  the  next 
meeting,  and  then  another,  and  then  another.  It 
seemed  impossible  to  secure  the  attendance  of 
two-thirds  of  the  members. 

A  system  of  quick  counting  of  all  who  entered 
the  room  was  devised.  Each  person  was  obliged 
to  show  her  membership  card  before  entering. 
Then  she  was  given  a  ticket  which  she  dropped 
in  a  basket  on  entering.  These  tickets  were 
counted  by  a  corps  appointed  for  the  purpose,  so 
that  by  the  time  the  meeting  was  opened  the  num- 
ber present  was  known.  Billy  was  put  in  charge 
of  this  counting,  but  the  Spy  and  another  Dreiser 
woman  were  appointed  among  the  tellers,  and 
Billy  took  the  precaution  that  the  Spy  should  an- 
nounce the  number  present  at  each  meeting,  and 
that  this  fact  should  be  noted  in  the  minutes. 

It  is  always  a  difficult  matter  to  get  an  attend- 
ance of  one  thousand  out  of  a  membership  of 
fifteen  hundred,  for  any  purpose  whatever.  With 
the  teachers  it  was  impossible  any  time  to  get  a 
meeting  of  any  size  except  on  a  Saturday  after- 
noon, and  even  then  it  required  extraordinary 
attractions  and  efforts  to  get  out  a  thousand. 

Aside  from  the  mailed  notices,  Billy  and  her 
friends  worked  unremittingly,  by  telephone,  per- 
sonal letters  and  personal  appeal,  to  secure  the 
necessary  attendance.     But  Saturday  after  Satur- 


BILLY   COMMITS    PERSONAL   VIOLENCE       IO5 

day  a  meeting  was  called,  and  the  attendance  fell 
far  below  the  necessary  mark. 

After  the  third  failure  an  informal  private 
meeting  of  those  most  deeply  interested  in  the 
proposed  bill  was  held.  Billy  was  there,  Miss 
McPike,  the  Irish  girl,  and  various  other  old- 
time  trusties  of  the  Haswell  regime.  Each  told 
her  observations  and  suspicions,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible to  avoid  the  conclusion  that  teachers  were 
being  kept  away  from  the  meetings  in  order  to 
defeat  the  object  for  which  they  were  called. 
There  were  in  the  Association  approximately  two 
hundred  and  fifty  teachers  who  were  Dreiser's 
appointments.  These  stayed  away  in  a  solid 
body,  with  the  exception  of  a  few,  like  the  Spy, 
who  were  always  present  to  watch  proceedings. 

But  in  addition  to  these,  and  to  the  percentage 
always  detained  by  personal  reasons,  a  solid  block 
of  old-timers  who  had  always  been  loyal  to  the 
Association  were  staying  away  from  the  meetings. 
Even  at  P.  S.  43,  Billy's  own  building,  only  three 
teachers  were  regularly  attending  the  meetings. 
Among  those  who  refused  to  attend  were  warm 
personal  friends  of  her  own,  and  these  had  whis- 
pered to  her  the  reason. 

"It's  no  use,  Billy,"  they  said;  "the  word's 
gone  out  from  Brackett.  He  has  got  his  eye  on 
us,  and  everybody  who  goes  is  in  danger.  Who- 
ever goes  will  be  on  his  black  list,  and  the  minute 
there  is  an  excuse  he  will  jump  on  us  and  make  it 


I06  CRAYON   CLUE 

unpleasant  for  us  in  every  way  he  can,  even  if  he 
doesn't  fire  us,  and  he'll  do  that  at  the  first  chance. 
Not  a  Haswell  appointee  in  the  schools  is  safe. 
They  can't  fire  us  all  in  a  bunch,  because  that 
would  make  a  sensation  and  a  row.  But  they'll 
drop  us  one  by  one,  as  fast  as  they  can,  and 
they'll  always  have  a  good  excuse." 

On  checking  off  the  list  of  the  teachers  it  was 
plainly  evident  that  those  who  were  staying  away 
were  the  ones  under  the  district  superintendents 
appointed  by  Dreiser.  That  is,  those  who  at- 
tended were  those  protected  because  they  taught 
under  a  man  whom  Dreiser  had  not  yet  felt  strong 
enough  to  discharge. 

The  Association  was  caught  in  a  net  of  its  own 
making,  and  realized,  as  more  important  bodies 
have  done  before  it,  the  chastened  joys  of  living 
under  a  written  constitution.  The  constitution 
provided  for  its  own  amendment  only  at  a  regular 
meeting,  and  then  provided  for  only  three  regu- 
lar meetings  a  year.  During  its  first  year  or  two 
of  existence  the  Association  had  held  only  these 
three  meetings.  When  it  took  up  the  pension 
fund  and  found  that  frequent  meetings  were  neces- 
sary, the  constitution  was  simply  amended  to  pro- 
vide that  special  meetings  could  be  called  at  any 
time,  at  the  desire  of  the  board  or  on  the  request 
of  five  members. 

But  the  constitution  could  not  be  amended  at 
one  of  these,  and  the  next  regular  meeting  would 


BILLY    COMMITS    PERSONAL   VIOLENCE       IO7 

not  occur  until  the  end  of  February.  This  was 
far  too  late  to  go  up  to  the  legislature  with  the 
bill.  The  friends  of  the  latter  could  of  course 
have  it  introduced  without  the  endorsement  of  the 
Association,  but  they  very  much  desired  it  pre- 
sented by  the  Association  itself,  as  its  own  bill. 
Moreover,  so  much  publicity  had  been  given  the 
matter  that  if  they  failed  now  the  entire  public 
would  be  informed  that  the  teachers  were  unable 
to  get  the  endorsement  of  their  own  bill  from 
their  own  Association. 

The  teachers  had  no  occasion  to  complain  now 
of  lack  of  attention  on  the  part  of  the  press. 
After  the  very  first  meeting,  at  which  the  Spy  had 
called  the  attention  to  the  lack  of  the  necessary 
quorum,  every  paper  in  town  had  an  article  the 
next  morning  in  which  Billy  was  represented  as 
trying  to  get  the  illegal  endorsement  by  the  Asso- 
ciation of  a  scheme  of  her  own  by  a  sharp  trick. 
No  denial  of  her  own  or  her  friends  was  printed. 

After  the  next  meeting,  which  failed  to  get  out 
the  desired  thousand,  a  cartoon  appeared  in  one 
paper  which  represented  the  teachers  engaged  in 
a  hair-pulling  contest.  Spread  across  one  page 
it  showed  a  collection  of  raging,  ramping  females, 
like  the  figures  on  comic  valentines,  brandishing 
hatchets  and  yanking  each  other's  hair,  while 
switches,  curls  and  "rats"  carpeted  the  floor,  and 
vituperative  printed  sentences  slanted  upward 
from  the  lips  of  the  combatants. 


I08  CRAYON   CLUE 

This  caught  the  eye  and  tickled  the  fancy  of 
the  public,  and  the  policy  spread  to  the  other 
papers  and  was  followed  and  Improved  upon. 
After  each  meeting  these  horrible  cartoons  ap- 
peared, executed  with  all  the  trained  skill  of  high- 
class  newspaper  artists.  The  teachers  were  repre- 
sented by  the  press  of  the  city  merely  as  a  group 
of  silly,  quarrelling  women  who  had  got  Into  a 
fight  among  themselves  and  were  adding  to  the 
gayety  of  nations.  It  was  pointed  out  persist- 
ently that  this  was  the  first  result  of  an  attempt 
to  go  Into  politics;  that  a  bill  put  forward  pro- 
fessedly as  a  benefit  to  the  teachers  could  not  get 
a  quorum  of  the  teachers  themselves  to  pass  it, 
but  Instead  Instantly  provoked  a  furious  quarrel. 
Humorous  editorials,  showing  the  fitness  of 
women  for  the  ballot  as  Illustrated  by  this  Inci- 
dent, appeared.  The  merits  of  the  bill  were  never 
discussed,  BUly^s  draft  was  never  even  printed, 
denials  of  the  reports  sent  In  by  women  who  had 
taught  in  the  schools  for  years  and  were  well- 
known  and  respected  citizens  of  the  city  were  re- 
fused publication.  Reporters  were  not  allowed  In 
the  meetings,  and  never  even  tried  to  attend.  Yet 
the  reports  appeared  each  morning  after,  with 
long  fictitious  discussions  and  detailed  descrip- 
tions of  things  which  had  never  taken  place,  and 
just  enough  fact  to  show  that  Information  con- 
cerning the  meeting  had  been  given  by  some  one 
who  had  been  present. 


BILLY   COMMITS   PERSONAL   VIOLENCE       IO9 

All  this  appealed  strongly  to  certain  sections  of 
the  newspaper-reading  public,  and  on  every  side 
rose  "the  loud  laugh  that  speaks  the  vacant 
mind."  To  a  certain  type  of  mind  there  seems 
to  be  something  humorous  in  the  very  word 
"schoolma'am."  The  subject  cannot  be  men- 
tioned without  a  bubbling  forth  of  wit.  There  is 
ground  for  the  belief  that  the  schoolma'am  joke 
was  one  of  the  seven  original  jokes  of  the  hu- 
man race,  bandied  lightly  back  and  forth  in  the 
Ark  to  while  the  tedium  of  the  voyage,  along  with 
the  mother-in-law  joke,  the  old-maid  joke,  and 
some  others.  It  was  a  dull  season  for  news,  and 
this  feature  played  up  in  the  public  prints  week 
after  week  tickled  Bartown  deeply.  Children 
came  to  school  and  smilingly  told  their  teachers 
they  had  recognized  them  in  the  morning's  car- 
toon. It  was  long  since  Bartown  had  enjoyed 
such  a  good  laugh. 

This  was  a  baptism  of  fire  to  the  teachers. 
More  than  one  clipping  bureau  in  the  United 
States  has  received  a  notification  from  some  states- 
man to  discontinue  his  service  when  he  was  pass- 
ing through  a  siege  like  this.  The  newspaper  re- 
porters and  artists  of  America  can  make  life  a 
hell  when  the  pack  is  turned  loose.  To  a  set  of 
women  who  had  hitherto  lived  lives  remote  from 
publicity  of  any  kind,  it  was  a  crucifixion.  Some 
who  had  been  staunch  friends  of  the  bill  hastily 
withdrew,  unable  to  stand  the  pressure.     Some 


no  CRAYON   CLUE 

women  who  had  been  personal  friends  of  Billy's 
for  years  dropped  away  from  her,  scared  off. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  the  warm,  loyal,  de- 
voted friends  who  not  only  stuck  by  but  multi- 
plied around  her,  Billy  would  have  grown  hard 
very  quickly  at  this  time.  Constant  and  pro- 
longed resentment,  a  raging  sense  of  injustice,  is 
the  most  hardening  process  one  can  pass  through. 
To  think  that  the  papers  which  had  silently, 
cynically  refused  to  touch  the  story  of  the  abuses 
in  the  schools  of  which  she  had  furnished  them 
such  ample  proofs;  abuses  which  affected  thou- 
sands of  children,  thousands  of  teachers,  and 
thousands  of  dollars  of  the  people's  money — 
would  then  turn  on  the  instant  and  devote  hun- 
dreds of  columns  of  blistering  ridicule  to  a  group 
of  inoffensive,  hard-working  women,  endeavoring 
to  improve  their  professional  standing  by  perfectly 
reasonable  and  legitimate  means — it  was  the  most 
bitter  disillusionment  of  Billy's  young  life. 

But  persecution  always  affects  certain  types  in 
certain  ways,  and  the  process  never  varies.  Some 
immediately  hasten  away  from  the  persecuted 
cause  or  person,  fearful  of  being  identified  with 
unpopularity.  Others  love  to  see  persecution  be- 
gin, and  cr§wd  to  the  front  to  give  a  kick  to  the 
fellow  that's  down,  even  though  they  may  not 
know  him.  A  streak  of  the  same  degeneracy  that 
makes  the  ripper  slash  and  slash  and  slash  again 
hides  far  down  in  their  beastly  hearts.    But  others 


BILLY    COMMITS    PERSONAL   VIOLENCE       III 

are  made  indignant  by  persecution,  and  rally  to 
the  support  of  the  victim  even  though  he  may  be 
a  stranger. 

Such  people  rallied  to  Billy;  her  own  personal 
friends,  teachers  with  whom  she  had  no  acquaint- 
ance, and  even  outsiders  who  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  schools  and  were  strangers  to  her.  It 
was  borne  in  upon  her  also  that  these  were  all 
people  of  character,  people  whom  one  could  tie 
to;  who  were  worth  having  as  friends.  Some  of 
them  displayed  for  her  a  sort  of  passion  of  loyalty 
and  affection  inexplicable  to  her.  It  was  at  this 
time  that  that  sort  of  bodyguard  collected  around 
her  so  noticeable  later.  A  group  of  young  teach- 
ers constituted  themselves  her  errand  girls  and 
personal  servants.  They  came  to  her  room  after 
school  hours  to  help  with  her  after-school  work. 
They  ran  errands  for  her,  did  shopping  for  her, 
that  Billy  might  have  more  time  for  important 
work  which  they  could  not  do.  All  around  her 
sounded  that  intoxicating  note  of  the  personal  fol- 
lowing, which  had  first  surged  up  in  Delia  Per- 
kins. Touched  to  the  heart,  Billy  balanced  her 
blessings  with  her  wounds,  and  found  that  it  was 
worth  while. 

The  fourth  meeting  had  been  called  in  the  at- 
tempt to  get  the  two-thirds  quorum.  The  friends 
of  the  bill  had  decided  that  this  should  be  the 
last,  and  in  fact  had  not  the  notices  for  it  already 
been   sent   out   they   would   not   have    called  it. 


112  CRAYON    CLUE 

Feeling  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  the  quorum, 
they  made  no  extra  effort  beyond  sending  the  no- 
tices by  mall.  But  four  weeks  of  Incessant  and 
highly  valuable  advertising  had  had  their  effect. 
Uncontrollable  curiosity  had  been  aroused,  and 
it  was  immediately  seen  that  this  was  to  be  the 
largest  of  all  the  meetings.  It  was  a  bright,  beau- 
tiful Saturday  afternoon,  and  women  poured  in 
throngs  into  the  hall. 

Billy  with  her  corps  of  tellers  busy  at  the  count- 
ing saw  that  the  meeting  was  going  to  be  a  record 
breaker.  Feverishly  she  reckoned  up  the  figures 
handed  in  by  the  various  counters,  and  sent  word 
to  the  president  to  delay  calling  to  order  as  long 
as  possible. 

When,  however,  the  great  audience  began  to 
grow  restless  and  the  chair  was  finally  forced  to 
bring  down  the  gavel,  there  were  only  987  per- 
sons in  the  room.  The  Spy,  who  had  been  look- 
ing nervous  and  scared,  announced  the  number 
with  a  satisfied  smile. 

Billy  had  already  sent  up  a  second  little  note 
to  the  platform.  When  she  opened  it  the  presi- 
dent saw  merely  the  words,  "Make  a  speech.'' 

She  was  a  woman  fully  in  sympathy  with  the 
bill  and  intensely  indignant  at  the  means  which 
had  been  used  against  it.  It  was  easy  for  her  to 
make  a  speech.  So  after  announcing  the  fact  that 
the  Association  was  still  unable  to  muster  the  quo- 
rum necessary  to  endorse  this  bill,  and  that  no 


BILLY   COMMITS    PERSONAL   VIOLENCE       II 3 

further  attempt  would  be  made  in  that  line,  she 
launched  into  a  lengthy,  pointed  and  spicy  review 
of  the  campaign  of  the  past  month.  She  was  lis- 
tened to  with  intense  interest,  especially  as  she 
grew  almost  personal  towards  the  close.  She 
closed  her  remarks  with  the  words,  "Are  there 
any  others  who  would  like  to  be  heard  on  this 
subject?" 

Instantly  Billy's  voice  rang  clarion  clear 
through  the  hall. 

**Madam  Chairman,"  she  said,  "while  you 
have  been  speaking  fourteen  members  of  this  As- 
sociation have  entered  the  room.  There  are  now 
i,ooi  members  present.  I  move  that  the  Bar- 
town  Teachers'  Association  adopt  as  its  own  the 
tenure  of  office  bill  which  I  have  prepared,  and 
order  its  introduction  in  the  coming  session  of  the 
state  legislature." 

Like  a  flash  the  Spy  was  on  her  feet. 

"I  move  we  adjourn,"  she  cried. 

The  motion  to  adjourn  took  precedence  and 
had  to  be  put  without  discussion. 

The  chair  put  it  and  it  was  voted  down  with  a 
storm  of  "noes." 

"The  motion  of  Miss  Pennington  is  now  be- 
fore you,"  said  the  chair;  "are  you  ready  for  the 
question?" 

It  was  then  the  Spy  showed  that  the  Dreiser 
administration  had  made  no  mistake  in  selecting 
her  for  its  agent.    Such  Dreiser  sympathizers  as 


114  CRAYON   CLUE 

were  in  the  room  were  scattered  through  the  vast 
audience,  impossible  to  reach.  But  near  the  door 
sat  the  Spy  and  her  one  follower,  who  had  acted 
as  teller  of  the  admission  tickets  throughout  the 
meetings. 

Instantly  the  Spy  seized  this  woman's  hand  with 
a  whispered  word,  and  together  they  ran  for  the 
door. 

But  they  had  to  pass  Billy,  and  Billy's  mind 
was  on  the  job.  She  saw  that  their  departure 
would  leave  less  than  the  legal  quorum  in  the 
room  to  pass  her  motion. 

So  as  they  passed  she  caught  the  skirts  of  each, 
and  held  on  like  grim  death.  Amazement  stopped 
them  stock  still  for  an  instant,  twisting  astonished 
faces  over  their  shoulders. 

^'Question,"  sang  out  Billy;  **put  the  question.'* 

"Those  in  favor  say  'aye,'  "  called  the  presi- 
dent, in  clear  ringing  tones. 

A  shout  of  ayes  went  up. 

"Those  opposed  'no.'  "  A  few  scattered  noes 
were  heard. 

"The  ayes  have  it,"  snapped  out  the  chair,  and 
a  demonstration  of  delight  followed  such  as  is  not 
often  seen  in  women's  meetings. 

Billy  smiled  languishingly  into  the  angry  eyes 
of  the  Spy. 

"You  can  go  now,  ladles,"  she  said  sweetly, 
loosing  their  skirts. 

Then  her  cohorts  swept  down  around  her,  and 


BILLY   COMMITS    PERSONAL   VIOLENCE       II 5 

she  was  almost  carried  bodily  to  the  stage.  There 
she  made  the  speech  of  her  life,  relating  the  whole 
incident  of  the  two  women  jumping  up  and  mak- 
ing for  the  door  when  they  knew  that  enough  were 
present  to  pass  the  bill. 

"Clean  out  the  spies,"  she  cried;  "clean  'em 
out.  We  know  they're  in  here.  This  Associa- 
tion can  never  do  business  with  a  gang  of  traitors 
inside.  I  move  that" — calling  the  two  women  by 
name — "be  expelled  from  this  Association." 

The  motion  was  carried  with  a  whoop. 

The  papers  next  morning  were  the  climax  of 
all  that  had  gone  before.  Billy — a  very  good 
caricature  portrait — was  represented  as  a  strap- 
ping, giant  fishwife  sitting  placidly  upon  two 
timid  shrinking  little  females.  The  reign  of  per- 
sonal violence  in  the  Teachers'  Association  was 
feelingly  depicted.  Editors  who  had  read  un- 
moved in  their  own  papers  accounts  of  knock- 
down and  drag-out  methods  in  local  politics, 
shooting  scrapes  in  ward  meetings  and  abundant 
arrests  at  the  polls  on  election  day,  gravely  com- 
mented upon  the  unfitness  of  women  for  political 
action  shown  by  the  episode. 

But  it  did  not  work  entirely.  The  audience  to 
which  they  had  been  catering  was  an  audience  that 
laughed  at  the  fellow  that  got  licked,  no  matter 
what  the  merits  of  his  case.  They  still  laughed, 
but  now  the  laugh  was  at  the  other  side,  not  at 
Billy. 


CHAPTER   VIII 
In  Which  Billy  Gets  a  Scare 

THE  two  most  Important  accessions  to  Billy's 
forces  made  by  this  campaign  were  Pro- 
fessor Andrews  and  Kate  Miller. 

It  is  now  good  form  among  representative  men 
in  the  teaching  profession  to  deprecate  the  use 
of  the  word  "professor"  as  applied  to  them- 
selves; and  Mr.  Andrews  certainly  had  no  right 
whatever  to  the  title. 

But  the  complimentary  titles  given  by  the  Amer- 
ican people,  at  which  foreigners  laugh,  are  not 
to  be  despised.  They  are  compliments,  and  in- 
tended as  such;  titles  granted  without  form  or 
ceremony  by  the  people,  nominally  the  sovereign 
in  a  democracy,  as  the  sovereign  grants  them 
formally  in  a  monarchy.  Mr.  Andrews'  teachers 
never  called  him  "Andy,"  or  "Andrews,"  or  "Old 
Andrews,"  after  their  manner  of  reference  to 
Brackett  and  Dreiser.  They  always  spoke  of  him 
as  Professor  Andrews;  just  as  they  had  always 
called  the  former  superintendent  Dr.  Haswell, 
though  he  was  never  doctor  of  anything  until  late 

1x6 


BILLY  GETS  A   SCARE  II7 

in  life  when  a  university  gave  him  an  honorary 
degree. 

Professor  Andrews  was  principal  of  the  Boys' 
Classical  High  School,  the  crack  school  of  the 
city.  Many  of  the  ablest  young  professional  men 
in  the  city  had  taken  their  college  preparatory 
course  under  him,  and  he  stood  high  among  them. 
He  was  one  of  Dr.  Haswell's  men,  and  a  man  of 
the  same  type,  although  many  years  younger. 
Dreiser  had  not  yet  interfered  with  him  or  his 
teaching  staff  in  any  way. 

He  came  to  Billy  the  day  after  she  got  her  bill 
adopted  by  the  Association;  a  stocky  man,  with 
short  brown  beard  and  pleasant  eyes,  strolling 
leisurely  through  P.  S.  43,  shaking  hands  with 
spies  and  trusties  alike,  and  strewing  jokes  along 
his  way.  Ending  his  cruise  in  Billy's  room,  he 
remarked,  "Billy  boy,  I  guess  youVe  got  about 
all  you  can  tend  to  without  putting  that  bill 
through  the  legislature.  It  isn't  fair  to  let  you 
do  it  all.  If  you  want  me  to  take  the  bill  off  your 
hands,  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  to  put  it  through. 
I've  got  a  good  man  to  introduce  It;  old  boy  of 
mine,  in  the  legislature  now,  but  we  mustn't  lay 
that  up  against  him.  I'll  keep  track  of  It  and 
lobby  for  it,  and  arrange  the  hearing  on  it  before 
whatever  committee  It's  referred  to.  Think  you 
can  trust  me  with  it?" 

"Oh,  Professor  Andrews !  Trust  you  with  it  I" 
exclaimed  Billy  gratefully. 


Il8  CRAYON    CLUE 

"Well,  I  didn't  know/'  said  he;  "you  seem  to 
be  in  a  sceptical  mood  nowadays,  from  all  I  can 
hear;  don't  seem  to  be  trusting  anybody  enough 
to  hurt  you  any." 

"It's  awfully  good  of  you,"  said  Billy,  almost 
with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  the  professor;  "you  women 
aren't  the  only  pebbles  on  the  beach.  Some  men 
going  to  be  affected  by  that  bill,  too.  Pretty 
good  little  bill,  from  all  I  can  hear." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you've  ever  felt  the 
need  of  it.  Professor  Andrews?" 

He  shook  his  head  at  her  solemnly. 

"These  be  parlous  times,  Billy,  parlous  times. 
I  don't  know  what  parlous  times  be,  but  that's 
what  they  are.  I  ain't  so  high  and  mighty  my- 
self that  I  can't  see  the  good  of  that  little  old  bill 
of  yours." 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  Billy  to  have  the  bill 
taken  off  her  hands.  She  had  had  it  drawn  up, 
Sarah  McPike's  brother,  an  Irish  lawyer  keen 
as  tacks,  doing  that  for  her  without  charge.  But 
she  was  entirely  inexperienced  in  getting  a  bill 
through  the  legislature,  and  resigned  the  responsi- 
bility of  that  task  with  joy.  McPike  had  friends 
in  the  legislature  whom  he  declared  he  could  get 
for  the  bill.  He  had  become  keenly  interested  in 
it  himself,  not  only  for  his  sister's  sake,  but  be- 
cause of  his  own  temperament.  There  never  was 
a  good  fight  on  anywhere  that  the  Irish  weren't 


BILLY  GETS  A   SCARE  II9 

in  on,  and  Sarah  McPike  was  becoming  Billy's 
right  hand  "man." 

A  legislative  committee  was  formed,  which  con- 
tained representatives  from  the  Teachers'  Asso- 
ciation, the  high  school  teachers  and  the  principals. 
Professor  Andrews  was  chairman,  Billy  and  the 
two  McPikes  were  on  it,  and  also  a  representative 
of  the  Woman's  Club.  Mrs.  Andrews  was  a  mem- 
ber of  this  big,  rich  club,  and  she  had  succeeded 
in  interesting  the  president,  a  woman  of  brains, 
wealth  and  high  social  standing.  Everything 
seemed  going  well.  Not  a  single  word  had  ap- 
peared in  the  newspapers  about  the  bill  since  these 
powerful  friends  came  forward  and  took  it  up. 
Through  the  president  of  the  Woman's  Club, 
Billy  was  invited  to  address  that  large  and  influen- 
tial body  of  women  upon  the  merits  of  the  bill. 
She  looked  somewhat  fearfully  for  cartoons  the 
next  morning.  However,  her  name  was  not  men- 
tioned, altliough  she  was  the  speaker  of  the  day, 
and  the  remaining  features  of  the  programme 
were  all  noticed. 

As  for  Kate  Miller,  she  joined  the  procession 
on  that  famous  day  when  Billy  held  two  members 
to  their  duty  by  their  skirts.  She  was  a  high 
school  teacher,  and  had  joined  the  grade  teach- 
ers' organization  merely  on  account  of  the  pen- 
sion fund.  She  seldom  attended  a  meeting,  and 
took  no  part  in  the  organization  except  to  pay  her 
dues.    She  was  one  of  those  whom  the  newspaper 


120  CRAYON   CLUE 

advertising  had  brought  to  the  now  celebrated 
meeting. 

At  the  close  of  the  meeting  she  sought  out  Billy 
and  said  In  her  decided  voice  and  precise  manner, 

"Miss  Pennington,  your  action  here  today  has 
shamed  me  Into  a  decision  which  I  have  long  had 
in  contemplation,  but  shunned  through  unworthy 
motives.  If  you  can  do  what  you  are  doing,  and 
encounter  the  opposition  and  danger  that  you  are 
encountering,  I  can  certainly  perform  a  duty  which 
I  have  too  long  neglected." 

Miss  Miller  was  one  of  the  characters  and  in- 
stitutions of  the  Bartown  schools.  She  was  dis- 
tinctly an  old  maid.  Some  spinsters  never  be- 
come old  maids;  but  Kate  had  been  one  at  25,  yes 
at  20.  She  was  one  of  that  type  of  American 
women — It  is  doubtful  whether  it  exists  as  a  type 
in  other  lands  or  not — In  which  sex  feeling  seems 
to  have  been  left  out  of  the  composition. 

Nobody  had  ever  been  able  to  Imagine  Kate  as 
either  having  a  beau  or  wanting  one.  The  most 
censorious  tongue.  In  her  silliest  age,  had  never 
accused  Kate  of  being  *'crazy  over  the  boys,"  or 
"trying  to  catch  a  husband." 

It  is  modern  to  call  such  women  "under-sexed" ; 
but  in  the  maternal  and  sisterly  feelings  typical 
of  their  sex  they  are  very  strong.  The  tie  of 
blood  is  a  hook  of  steel  with  them.  If  there  Is 
an  old  mother  or  a  tuberculous  brother  or  a  crip- 
pled sister,  or  any  sort  of  a  family  burden  or 


BILLY  GETS   A   SCARE  121 

ne*er-do-well,  or  non-producer,  the  "under-sexed" 
woman  Is  the  one  most  frequently  at  the  helm,  la- 
boring with  iron  devotion  and  protective  instinct 
to  keep  the  family  together.  In  Kate's  case  it  had 
been  a  brood  of  young  nieces  and  nephews,  chil- 
dren of  a  d^ad  brother.  Their  young  mother 
went  off  and  married  again,  had  enough  to  do 
with  her  second  family,  and  left  the  first  one  to 
Kate. 

Women  of  this  type  have  rarely  any  sense  of 
dress.  Miss  Miller  was  famed  for  the  shabbi- 
ness  of  her  clothes.  This  was  partly  because  it 
irritated  Kate  to  have  to  bother  with  clothes; 
partly  because  of  poverty,  and  partly  because  her 
assured  position  in  the  community  had  never  de- 
pended upon  her  looks.  She  was  a  sad  frump. 
Her  scant  grey  hair  was  strained  tightly  back  and 
plastered  in  a  tiny,  tight  ring  behind.  Her  smart 
little  face  was  a  map  of  wrinkles.  She  wore  no 
corsets,  she  sported  a  ^'basque"  of  the  vintage  of 
'77  when  other  women  were  wearing  one-piece 
empire  gowns,  her  shabby  old  beaver  coat  had 
done  service  for  years,  her  hat  dated  back  to 
prehistoric  times.  No  one,  however,  ever  saw 
Miss  Miller  in  soiled  or  spotted  clothes.  She  was 
clean  just  as  she  was  decent,  not  because  It  was 
attractive  but  because  she  couldn't  be  anything 
else. 

Miss  Miller  was  an  extraordinary  teacher  of 
mathematics.     Had  she  been  a  man,  with  the  de- 


122  CRAYON   CLUE 

grees  she  had  taken,  the  chair  of  mathematics  in 
some  great  university  would  have  been  open  to 
her.  Being  a  woman,  the  high  school  or  the  wom- 
an's college  was  the  best  she  could  do.  For 
thirty  years  she  had  taught  mathematics  in  the 
Bartown  high  schools,  and  no  dimming  of  her 
matchless  powers  could  be  seen.  A  splendid  dis- 
ciplinarian, no  pupil  ever  laughed  at  her  quaint- 
ness.  Students  who  desired  to  progress  respected 
her  highly.  Fresh  kids  found  the  laugh  of  the 
class  turned  against  themselves  by  some  dry  re- 
mark of  Miss  Miller's  which  sent  them  into  blush- 
ing retirement.  In  these  days  of  overwhelming 
attention  to  "front,"  It  Is  a  question  if  it  Is  not 
desirable  to  have  high  school  pupils  perceive  oc- 
casionally that  there  are  some  people  so  able  that 
they  do  not  need  to  dress  their  part. 

Billy  watched  with  curiosity  to  see  what  Miss 
Miller  was  going  to  do.  The  next  thing  the  teach- 
ers knew  Kate  Miller  had  called  a  meeting  of  the 
forty-seven  teachers  of  Algebra  in  the  Bartown 
high  schools.  All  had  attended,  all  had  voted 
affirmatively  on  a  resolution  condemning  the  Alge- 
bra in  use  as  a  poor,  unsuitable  book. 

This  resolution  was  addressed  to  Superintend- 
ent Dreiser,  and  it  petitioned  him  to  permit  them 
to  name  three  textbooks  from  which  he  should 
select  one  to  be  used  in  the  schools.  The  reso- 
lution further  set  forth,  in  terms  uninteresting  to 
the  general  reader,  the  reasons  why  the  instruc- 


BILLY  GETS   A   SCARE  1 23 

tors  found  the  book  unsatisfactory.  The  entire 
forty-seven  teachers,  men  and  women,  signed  this 
petition.  It  was  the  strongest  of  all  testimony  to 
Miss  Miller's  standing  among  her  colleagues. 

Miss  Miller  offered  to  sign  it  first,  as  the  chair- 
man of  the  sub-committee  appointed  to  draw  it  up. 
This  was  vetoed,  and  the  signatures  were  ap- 
pended in  alphabetical  order. 

It  was  known  throughout  the  schools  that  the 
petition  had  gone  to  the  superintendent,  and  dis- 
cussion was  rife.  Exactly  the  same  point  was 
at  issue  as  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Merrill.  But  in 
this  case  forty-seven  persons  instead  of  one  were 
in  rebellion. 

"What  can  he  do?'^  was  the  general  query. 
"He  can't  fire  the  whole  forty-seven.     He  won't 

dare  fire and ,"  naming  two  well-known 

men  teachers.  "He  can't  fire  part  and  not  all, 
when  they've  all  signed." 

The  general  opinion  was  that  a  number  of  the 
daring  teachers  would  be  dropped  at  the  end  of 
the  current  year,  another  section  the  next  year, 
and  so  on  till  all  the  offenders  had  been  worked 
out  on  some  valid  excuse. 

Two  weeks  went  by,  and  not  a  word  had  been 
heard  from  the  petition.  No  answer  was  re- 
turned to  it;  Dreiser  gave  no  sign  that  he  had  ever 
received  it. 

Then  suddenly,  like  wildfire,  there  ran  through 
the  schools  the  news  that  Kate  Miller  had  re- 


124  CRAYON   CLUE 

signed  and  with  it  ran  the  reason  for  which  she 
had  been  asked  to  resign.  No  one  breathed  it 
aloud;  it  was  mentioned  in  horrified  whispers,  and 
even  women  of  Dreiser's  appointment  looked  sick. 

Dreiser  himself  had  gone  before  the  commit- 
tee on  teachers  and  asked  to  have  her  resignation 
requested.  He  did  this  with  great  reluctance,  he 
stated,  particularly  as  it  was  in  the  middle  of  the 
school  year,  and  more  particularly  as  it  concerned 
an  old  and  able  teacher.  He  had  been  carrying 
the  thing  on  his  mind  for  some  time,  but  had 
finally  decided  that  the  good  of  the  schools  de- 
manded this  action  on  his  part. 

No  one  denied,  he  said,  that  Miss  Miller  was 
an  excellent  teacher  of  mathematics,  but  he  could 
not  feel  that  this  should  retain  in  the  schools  a 
person  who  was  unfit  in  her  personal  habits  to 
provide  a  good  example  for  the  girls  under  her 
charge. 

"There  are  plenty  of  excellent  teachers  of 
mathematics,'*  he  said,  "both  men  and  women. 
There  are  even  young,  attractive  women,  beauti- 
ful models  of  womanhood,  to  place  before  our 
girls  and  boys,  who  are  excellent  teachers  of 
mathematics." 

The  committee  agreed  with  him  absolutely. 
Klein,  the  chairman,  was  vociferous. 

"I  wouldn't  let  a  girl  stand  behind  my  notion 
counter  that  you  could  smell,"  said  he;  "it's  an 


BILLY  GETS   A   SCARE  1 25 

outrage  to  have  a  woman  that  you  can  smell  in 
the  schools/' 

One  member  of  the  committee,  not  in  doubt 
but  in  surprise,  said  it  was  strange  this  Miller 
woman  could  teach  in  the  schools  thirty  years  and 
not  have  such  a  thing  discovered  before. 

Dreiser  gave  a  peculiar  smile. 

^'Doubtless  it  was  discovered,"  he  said  softly, 
"but  not  reported.  We  all  know  old  Dr.  Has- 
welPs  hatred  of  turning  off  a  teacher.  It  does 
infinite  credit  to  his  kind  heart,  but  it  was  not 
always  good  for  the  schools." 

"I  should  say  not,"  exploded  Klein;  "a  woman 
that  smells!    Ugh!" 

"Don't  be  too  hard  on  her,  Mr.  Klein,"  said 
the  superintendent;  "I  feel  sorry  for  her  myself. 
But  it  is  a  proof  of  what  I  have  said  ever  since 
I  came  to  Bartown.  The  schools  need  new  blood." 

All  this  spread  through  the  teaching  ranks  with 
a  swiftness  and  amplitude  that  indicated  that  some 
one  wanted  it  thoroughly  disseminated. 

Billy  got  the  full  horror  of  it,  like  a  blow  in 
the  face,  from  the  Spy,  who  hastened  to  tell  her 
the  news  after  school  on  the  day  it  happened. 
Billy  staggered  back. 

"Oh I"  she  said.    "Oh!" 

The  Spy  stared  at  her,  smiling. 

"It's  very  sad,  is  It  not?"  she  said.  "I  feel  so 
sorry  for  poor  Mr.  Dreiser.  It  must  have  been 
so  painful  to  him.     In  fact  he  told  me  himself 


126  CRAYON   CLUE 

he  had  been  delaying  It  for  weeks  because  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  do  it,  even  though  he  felt 
it  was  Inevitable." 

"Go  out,"  said  Billy  sharply;  *'go  out  of  my 
room." 

"My  dear  Miss  Pennington,  please  pardon  me 
for  Intruding,"  said  the  Spy;  "I  only  came  to  tell 
you  because  I  knew  Miss  Miller  was  such  a  warm 
friend  of  yours  and  I  thought  perhaps  you  would 
like  to  know." 

Then  she  went. 

Billy  leaned  against  her  desk,  with  shaking 
hands  and  limbs.  The  devilish  Ingenuity  of  the 
thing  was  apparent  to  her;  the  Impossibility  of 
any  woman  denying  such  a  thing,  or  allowing  it 
to  be  made  pubHc  In  any  way. 

And  suddenly,  for  the  first  time,  a  feeling  of 
fear  entered  Billy's  mind.  She  had  had  no  fear, 
because  she  had  resigned  herself  to  the  loss  of 
her  position,  and  she  had  thought  that  this  was 
all  these  people  could  do  to  her. 

But  she  saw  that  It  was  not  enough  for  them 
to  discharge  people.  They  had  to  discharge  them 
smirched,  and  plausibly  smirched.  They  said 
Miss  Harcourt  was  crazy,  and  her  nervous  break- 
down gave  color  to  the  charge.  They  said  Miss 
Miller  smelled,  and  her  shabby,  threadbare, 
tasteless  appearance  would  give  color  to  the 
charge  to  anyone  who  did  not  know. 

Her  own  discharge  had  not  come  yet.     When 


BILLY  GETS   A    SCARE  1 27 

it  did,  what  would  they  say  of  her?  From  what 
cesspool  would  they  pick  the  mud  to  fling  at  her? 

She  went  out  into  the  hall  to  seek  one  of  her 
good  friends  among  the  teachers.  On  the  thresh- 
old she  saw  Brackett  advancing  towards  her  at  the 
far  end  of  the  hall.  She  hesitated  and  would 
have  turned  back,  but  the  thought  came  to  her 
that  he  would  understand  and  come  straight  to 
her  room. 

So  she  walked  on.  Far  down  the  hall  she  saw 
him  laughing.  As  they  approached  each  other 
he  continued  to  laugh,  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  face. 
He  made  no  sound,  but  his  mouth  was  wide  open, 
and  he  shook  with  his  laughter. 

Brackett  was  a  very  fat  man.  He  always  wore 
rubber  heels  and  walked  very  slowly,  with  soft, 
heavy  footsteps,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him. 
His  fat  was  not  healthy.  It  lay  upon  him  mushy, 
fibreless,  like  lard.  He  had  a  pasty,  unwhole- 
some look.  The  only  color  in  his  face  was  on 
the  rims  of  his  lower  eyelids,  which  were  always 
red  and  inflamed.  There  was  an  indefinable 
touch  of  degeneracy  about  him;  a  hint  of  some- 
thing foul. 

The  first  adjective  anyone  would  apply  to  him 
was  "sluggish."  But  sluggish  means  like  to  slugs; 
and  that  is  exactly  what  he  reminded  Billy  of  as 
he  passed  her;  of  those  fat  white  slugs  in  the 
garden,  crawling. 


128  CRAYON    CLUE 

She  went  straight  to  Andrews.  She  found  him 
very  sober. 

"It's  a  bad  business,"  said  he;  "hard  business 
to  get  any  proof  on,  one  way  or  another.  The 
chap  that  teaches  Algebra  in  my  school  is  a  bril- 
liant young  fellow.  He's  accepted  an  appoint- 
ment already  in  one  of  the  big  universities  next 
year.  When  he  heard  this  thing  he  was  quite  hot. 
He  jumped  to  the  conclusion  immediately  that  it 
was  on  account  of  the  Algebra  business,  and  he's 
so  down  on  that  Algebra  they  have  to  use  that 
he  posted  straight  off  to  Dreiser  and  accused  him 
to  his  face  of  sacrificing  Miss  Miller  on  account 
of  the  petition." 

"What  happened?"  said  Billy. 

Andrews  shook  his  head. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  said;  "Dreiser  got  around 
him  some  way.  He  came  back  all  cooled  down. 
Dreiser  told  him  In  the  first  place  that  he  didn't 
even  know  that  Miss  Miller  had  taken  any  prom- 
inent part  in  getting  up  the  petition.  We  know 
that's  a  lie,  but  there's  no  way  to  prove  it.  Then 
he  said  he  had  taken  the  Algebra  matter  under 
careful  consideration,  and  would  send  a  formal 
reply  soon.  He  said  he  had  no  idea  there  was 
such  a  feeling  about  the  book;  that  the  Columbian 
books  stood  high,  and  he  had  simply  accepted  it 
without  looking  Into  it  specially.  He  gave  the 
impression  that  he  would  in  all  likelihood  grant 
the  petition  as  soon  as  he  had  time  to  thoroughly 


BILLY   GETS   A   SCARE  1 29 

consider  the  matter.  This  chap  of  mine  came 
back  all  mollified.  He  said  of  course  you  couldn't 
tell  whether  the  charge  was  true  or  not  unless  you 
got  up  close  to  her." 

*'How  is  It  that  man  has  such  power  over  peo- 
ple?" exclaimed  Billy  desperately. 

"People  that  play  the  game  that  Dreiser's  play- 
ing always  have  power  over  people,"  said  An- 
drews. "That's  the  reason  they  can  play  it.  He 
wins  and  conciliates  a  man  like  this  teacher  of 
mine,  who  might  make  him  trouble,  and  strikes 
where  he  can  strike  without  danger.  This  stroke 
at  Miss  Miller  is  a  warning  to  every  teacher  who 
doesn't  wish  to  lose  his  position.  It  is  a  warning 
particularly  to  the  women  teachers,  and  particu- 
larly to  you,  Billy." 

"Oh,  I  practically  resigned  my  job  long  ago," 
said  Billy. 

"Yes,  but  it's  evident  Dreiser  doesn't  fire  peo- 
ple without  a  good  excuse.  That's  part  of  his 
cool,  careful  game.  Take  care,  Billy;  he'll  get 
something  on  you." 

"I've  thought  of  that,"  said  Billy,  "but  never 
mind  me.    What  shall  we  do  about  Miss  Miller?" 

"You  go  to  her,"  replied  Andrews.  "Go  and 
ask  her.  Tell  her  we  will  do  just  what  she  wants 
us  to." 

"Nobody  has  seen  her,  and  they  say  she  won't 
see  anybody." 

"She'll  see  you,"  said  Andrews. 


130  CRAYON   CLUE 

He  proved  to  be  right.  Billy  was  admitted  at 
Miss  Miller's  flat.  She  found  the  old  teacher 
looking  broken  and  helpless.  She  seemed  sud- 
denly transformed  into  a  feeble  old  woman. 
Hard  work  and  poverty  had  left  her  wiry  and 
cheerful  all  her  life.  But  this  was  disgrace;  and 
it  wilted  her. 

"Do?  What  can  you  do,  child,"  she  said. 
"You  can't  do  anything.  Can  you  all  go  before 
the  School  Board  and  declare  that  I  don't  smell? 
Will  that  be  any  proof?  Shall  I  invite  the  School 
Board  to  come  here  and  find  out  for  themselves  if 
Dreiser  speaks  the  truth?  And  wouldn't  they  say 
I'd  taken  a  bath  since?  And  what  would  the  pa- 
pers be  saying?  No,  no,  Billy,  I  can't  go  through 
with  a  thing  like  that.  I'm  an  old  woman.  I'm 
fifty-five  years  old.  I  haven't  very  much  longer 
to  live.  The  only  thing  you  can  do  for  me  is  to 
not  let  this  thing  become  public." 

"Oh,  Miss  Miller,  old  I"  cried  Billy.  "You're 
in  the  very  zenith  of  your  powers.  Would  a  col- 
lege professor  of  mathematics  be  old  at  fifty- 
five?" 

"But  this  thing  has  broken  me,"  said  Miss  Mil- 
ler, bursting  into  tears.  "I  looked  forward  to  an 
honorable  old  age.  If  they  didn't  want  me  any 
longer,  why  did  they  have  to  kick  me  out  like 
that?  I  would  have  gone,  at  the  end  of  the  year, 
without  the  necessity  of  any  such  disgrace." 

"Oh,  Miss  Miller,"  said  Billy,  "you  know  why 


BILLY  GETS   A   SCARE  IJI 

they  did  it.  On  account  of  the  Algebra  business, 
to  frighten  the  rest  of  us.  And  it  was  I  got  you 
into  this  thing,  Miss  Miller.  You  never  would 
have  done  it  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me.  And  now 
the  blow  falls  on  you  instead  of  me." 

"Never  mind  that,"  said  Miss  Miller;  "it  was 
the  right  thing  to  do.  It  was  shameful  that  I 
left  it  for  a  child  like  you  to  show  me  my  duty." 

"But  this  isn't  the  end  of  it,"  said  Billy;  "this 
fight  is  going  straight  on,  and  if  we  win  out  you'll 
go  back  to  your  old  position.    Listen." 

They  had  a  long  talk  over  the  state  of  affairs, 
and  at  the  end  Miss  Miller  was  more  cheerful. 

"If  there's  anything  I  can  do,  Billy,"  she  said 
eagerly,  "call  on  me.  Send  me  clerical  work, 
utilize  my  services  in  any  way  that  will  save  money 
for  the  Association." 

"What  are  you  going  to  be  doing?"  asked 
Billy. 

"Oh,  the  children  can  support  me.  They're  all 
earning  now.  We'll  let  the  hired  girl  go,  and  I'll 
do  the  housework.  My  nieces  and  nephews  know 
that  I  bathe  quite  often.  They  are  not  afraid  to 
eat  my  cooking,"  she  finished  with  a  wry  smile. 

"To  think  of  "a  woman  that  can  teach  Geome- 
try as  you  can  peeling  potatoes,"  said  Billy 
wrathfuUy. 

"There  are  mysteries  in  this  thing,"  she  said 
to  Ethel  that  night. 

"It's  a  mystery  what  they  did  to  the  papers  to 


132  CRAYON   CLUE 

silence  them  all.  It's  a  mystery  why  I  haven't 
been  fired  long  ago. 

"And  now  it's  a  mystery  why  they've  fired  Miss 
Miller  instead  of  me.  I  would  have  been  a  more 
marked  example  than  she.  I  was  the  logical  one 
to  fire." 

"It  must  be  as  Professor  Andrews  says,"  said 
Ethel,  "they're  waiting  to  get  something  good 
on  you." 

"That's  nonsense,"  said  Billy.  "Insubordina- 
tion is  always  a  reason  for  discharge,  any  time 
of  the  year.  After  the  things  I  have  said  in  pub- 
lic meetings  about  them  they  could  fire  me  any 
minute,  and  public  opinion  would  support  them." 


CHAPTER   IX 

In  Which  Billy  Goes  to  the  Legislature 

EVENTS  marched  on  apace  with  the  tenure 
of  office  bill.  Teachers  all  over  the  state 
were  rousing  to  action,  writing  for  information, 
promising  to  work  with  their  representatives  at 
the  capitol,  and  to  be  present  at  the  hearing. 
Many  papers  over  the  state  gave  a  friendly  para- 
graph in  their  editorials. 

The  delegate  to  the  legislative  committee  from 
the  Woman's  Club  had  become  deeply  interested. 
She  was  a  rich  woman  with  leisure  and  considera- 
ble previous  experience  in  pushing  measures  in 
which  the  club  had  been  interested.  She  offered 
to  move  down  to  the  state  capital,  open  headquar- 
ters at  the  principal  hotel  at  her  own  expense, 
and  lobby  for  the  bill. 

This  for  the  teachers,  prevented  by  their  pro- 
fessional duties  from  spending  much  time  at  the 
capital,  was  great  good  fortune.  They  had  ex- 
pected to  be  obliged  to  employ  an  agent  to  look 
after  the  bill,  and  when  she  relieved  them  of  this 
entire  expense  it  was  a  windfall. 

A  typewriting  machine  was  secured  for  Miss 
133 


134  CRAYON   CLUE 

Miller,  and  she  did  quantities  of  clerical  work  for 
the  Association,  directing  envelopes,  preparing 
circulars  and  the  like,  saving  money  for  the  teach- 
ers and  bringing  the  only  consolation  possible 
into  the  poor  old  woman's  life. 

Denny  McPike  was  the  attorney  for  the  Trades 
Assembly,  a  parliament  composed  of  delegates 
from  the  trades  unions  of  the  city.  Through  his 
influence  Billy  was  permitted  to  address  the  As- 
sembly. They  had  demurred  at  first,  on  the 
ground  that  the  matter  was  of  no  interest  to 
them. 

"They're  working  people,  just  the  same  as 
you,"  said  Denny;  "anything  that  strengthens  and 
improves  the  position  of  any  class  of  workers  is 
good  for  the  general  movement." 

"Ye-es,"  said  the  president  of  the  Assembly, 
with  whom  he  was  talking,  "but  that's  rather  far- 
fetched, Dinnis,  me  son.  These  schoolma'ams 
have  no  idea  of  reckoning  themselves  in  with  us. 
They'd  never  come  near  us  if  they  didn't  want 
something  of  us." 

"Then  here's  a  chance  to  educate  them,"  said 
McPike.  "When  they  want  something  is  the  time 
to  get  something  out  of  them.  Your  children  have 
to  go  to  school  to  them.  It's  the  part  of  com- 
mon sense  to  get  them  into  sympathy  with  your 
movement." 

"There's    something    in    that,"    admitted    the 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  I35 

president;  "anyway,  whatever  you  say  goes, 
Denny,  so  bring  on  your  girl/' 

It  was  an  absolutely  uninterested  audience  that 
greeted  Billy  on  the  Sunday  afternoon  she  went 
to  the  Trades  Assembly;  polite,  since  Denny  Mc- 
Pike  had  vouched  for  her,  but  indifferent. 

They  had  granted  her  only  ten  minutes,  and 
she  had  carefully  packed  every  fact  she  could 
into  a  ten  minutes'  speech.  She  laid  her  little 
bracelet  watch  on  the  stand  before  her  and 
stopped  on  the  last  second  of  the  allotted  time. 
Some  one  moved  her  time  be  extended  ten  min- 
utes. She  talked  ten  minutes  longer,  and  then  an 
enthusiastic  young  Irishman  jumped  up  and 
moved  the  lady  be  given  all  the  time  she  wanted. 
She  knew  better  than  to  tire  them,  however,  and 
spoke  only  half  an  hour  in  all. 

She  was  listened  to  with  the  utmost  attention. 
She  spoke  along  strictly  practical  lines,  showing 
out  of  her  full  and  abundant  knowledge  of  the 
schools  how  largely  the  lower  grades  are  made 
up  of  the  children  of  workingmen,  how  short  was 
the  period  the  children  had  in  school,  how  impor- 
tant it  was  that  it  should  be  utilized  to  the  best 
advantage.  Then  she  made  them  understand 
what  the  chalk  was  doing  to  hinder  and  delay  this 
process  of  education.  She  had  a  blackboard  there, 
and  illustrated  with  a  practical  "chalk  talk." 
Then  she  told  of  the  closed  rooms,  and  the  theft 
in  that  direction  of  the  children  of  the  poor.    She 


136  CRAYON   CLUE 

gave  them  the  little  arithmetic  sum  as  to  the 
amount  they  had  been  compelled  to  contribute  to 
the  Columbian  Book  Company  for  drawing  books 
which  the  teachers  did  not  want. 

Then  she  drove  the  nail  home  straight  and  true. 

*'Who  is  protesting  against  these  things?"  she 
demanded.  "Who  knows  them?  Do  you?  Has 
one  single  representative  of  union  labor  said  one 
word  of  this  outrage  upon  the  children  of  union 
men?  Yes,  you  say,  Denny  McPike.  And  why 
has  Denny  McPike  taken  it  up?  Because  he  has 
a  sister  in  the  schools,  and  she  has  made  him  see 
the  enormity  of  it.  Only  the  teachers  know,  only 
the  teachers  will  speak,  and  every  one  risks  her 
job  in  doing  it.  Fm  risking  my  job  here  this 
afternoon.  Help  us  get  this  tenure  of  office  bill 
through,  that  we  may  not  fear  to  speak  when  we 
see  things  that  are  injuring  the  children." 

It  was  a  kind  of  audience  new  to  Billy.  The 
leaders  and  officers  generally,  as  in  the  whole 
union  movement,  were  Irish  or  Irish-American. 
The  linotype  men  were  either  of  the  old  Ameri- 
can stock  or  could  not  be  distinguished  from  such. 

From  these  the  type  ranged  down  to  Poles, 
Hungarians  and  Italians.  Although  unions  made 
up  of  this  class  of  foreign  labor  always  try  to 
send  English-speaking  members  as  delegates  to 
the  Trades  Assembly,  still  many  of  these  men 
leaned  forward  and  evidently  bent  every  faculty 
to  comprehend  her  words.    They  understood  that 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  I37 

she  was  speaking  of  schools  and  the  children,  and 
this  had  a  personal  interest  for  them  deeper  than 
that  of  many  of  the  more  intelligent  men,  for  they 
felt  the  great  importance  of  their  children  being 
educated  to  be  "Americans." 

The  delegates  from  the  Brewers'  union,  mostly 
Germans,  were  hostile,  for  their  only  idea  of  a 
woman  in  politics  is  one  who  wants  to  vote  the 
business  by  which  they  rr^ake  their  living  out  of 
existence.  Even  they  were  much  mollified,  how- 
ever, by  the  time  she  closed. 

It  was  one  of  these,  however,  after  the  gener- 
ous round  of  applause  which  followed  her  speech, 
who  rose  and  said  in  slightly  broken  English, 

"The  lady  Is  very  anxious  that  ve  vlll  help  get 
her  bill  through.  Probably  it  vlll  help  the  chil- 
dren, like  she  says;  but  ve  know  it  vlll  help  the 
teachers,  anyvay.  If  ve  do  this  to  help  the  teach- 
ers, vlll  the  teachers  do  anything  at  all  to  help 
us?" 

There  was  a  slight  laugh  at  this,  but  the  meet- 
ing as  a  whole  was  pleased  with  her  speech.  The 
more  intelligent  of  the  men  understood  the  full 
force  of  her  argument  and  saw  that  it  was  all  to 
their  benefit.  Others  liked  her  because  she  was 
young  and  pretty  and  a  good  speaker;  others  be- 
cause they  thought  she  was  Denny  McPIke's 
"girl,"  and  must  be  all  right.  They  endorsed  the 
bill  and  Instructed  McPIke  to  consider  it  a  part 
of  the  trades  union  legislation  and  help  it  along 


138  CRAYON   CLUE 

With  the  rest  of  their  bills  at  the  capitol  that  win- 
ter. 

Billy  sat  down  and  stayed  through  the  meeting. 
She  learned  a  great  many  things  which  she  had 
not  known  before,  and  was  deeply  impressed. 
Among  the  topics  discussed  was  that  of  a  boycott 
on  a  certain  unfair  candy  manufacturer  of  the 
city.  Billy  listened  to  all  that  was  said  about  this, 
and  just  at  the  last  moment,  as  they  were  about 
to  adjourn,  rose  and  asked  for  one  moment. 

''After  I  finished  speaking  today,*'  she  said, 
"one  gentleman  asked  if  there  was  anything  we 
teachers  would  do  to  help  the  unions.  I  couldn't 
answer  him,  because  I  didn't  know  of  anything, 
then,  that  we  could  do.  But  since  then  I  have 
listened  to  what  you  said  about  this  candy  com- 
pany; about  the  way  they  treat  their  help.  I 
didn't  know  these  things  before.  I  want  to  say 
that  I  think  your  reasons  are  good;  these  people 
ought  to  be  boycotted.  The  organization  which 
I  represent  here  today  has  2,000  women  in  it.  I 
want  to  say  that  I  am  going  to  fix  things  so  that 
not  one  of  those  2,000  women  will  buy — or  ac- 
cept— one  piece  of  that  company's  candy  till  the 
boycott  is  lifted." 

There  was  an  instant's  pause,  and  then  a  roar 
of  laughter  and  pounding  of  feet  and  hands  that 
almost  scared  Billy,  used  as  she  was  to  the  lady- 
like applause  of  women's  meetings.  The  tradi- 
tional  relation  between  women   and  candy,   the 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  I39 

hole  that  2,000  women  could  undoubtedly  make 
in  any  candy  company's  receipts,  stirred  their 
sense  of  humor;  and  the  practical  help  offered, 
in  a  quarter  which  they  could  never  have  reached 
otherwise,  filled  them  with  delight.  They  surged 
around  her  in  a  tumultuous  throng  after  adjourn- 
ment, and  McPike,  who  was  a  politician  from  his 
boots  up,  wrung  her  hand  and  kept  saying,  ''Oh, 
Billy,  you're  a  smooth  one." 

Billy  had  no  idea  of  being  smooth.  She  meant 
what  she  said,  and  set  about  immediately  to  carry 
out  her  word.  She  had  a  union  organizer  invited 
to  the  next  meeting  of  the  Association  to  tell  of 
conditions  among  the  candy  workers,  and  Billy 
clinched  it  with  an  able  little  speech,  in  which  she 
explained  what  the  Trades  Assembly  had  done 
for  them,  and  urged  the  boycott,  not  only  for 
themselves  but  for  all  their  friends.  She  had  a 
circular  letter  framed  and  sent  to  every  member 
of  the  Association,  setting  forth  the  facts  and  urg- 
ing the  boycott,  in  language  which  McPike  care- 
fully prevented  from  laying  the  Association  open 
to  damages.  Through  Billy's  efforts,  also,  the 
condition  among  the  candy  workers  was  taken  into 
the  Woman's  Club,  and  the  boycott  received  the 
endorsement  of  a  group  of  the  richest  women  in 
Bartown.  The  spectacle  of  a  union  boycott  being 
urged  in  the  Woman's  Club  was  so  amazing  that 
the  papers  all  featured  it.  The  members  of  the 
Woman's  Club  being  persons  who  could  buy  all 


I40  CRAYON    CLUE 

the  candy  they  wanted,  the  candy  company  became 
alarmed,  and  it  had  a  material  influence  on  nego- 
tiations between  the  company  and  the  unions. 

It  was  because  of  her  efforts  and  success  in  this 
matter  that  Billy  was  forever  after  called  the 
Candy  Kid  among  the  trades  unions  of  Bartown. 
The  origin  of  this  quaint  name  has  often  excited 
surmise,  and  so  far  as  I  am  aware  this  is  the 
first  full  explanation  of  it  that  has  ever  been 
printed.  The  relations  at  that  time  established 
between  the  unions  and  the  teachers  proved  a  use- 
ful and  valuable  thing  to  both,  informing  each  of 
the  other's  affairs,  securing  a  backing  of  votes  for 
the  teachers,  and  carrying  information  and  educa- 
tion concerning  the  union  movement  into  quar- 
ters where  its  own  members  could  never  have  in- 
troduced it. 

In  such  ways  as  this  Billy  was  extending  her 
acquaintance  and  influence  and  gaining  friends  for 
the  bill  all  winter.  The  membership  of  the  Asso- 
ciation had  gone  from  1,500  to  2,000  almost  at 
a  jump,  and  the  attendance  at  the  meetings  was 
now  enormous.  The  papers  no  longer  mentioned 
either  the  teachers  or  their  bill.  There  seemed 
no  opposition  to  the  measure,  and  a  great  deal 
of  friendship.  All  these  things  sent  Billy  down 
to  the  hearing,  which  took  place  late  in  February, 
in  a  happy  and  buoyant  mood. 

The  committee  on  education,  to  which  the  bill 
had  been  referred,  had  granted  an  hour's  hear- 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  I4I 

ing  to  arguments  for  and  against.  The  friends 
were  to  have  the  first  half  hour,  the  opposition 
twenty  minutes,  and  the  friends  ten  minutes  In 
rebuttal.  The  meeting  was  held  in  a  large  com- 
mittee room,  which  was  jammed  to  the  doors  with 
friends  of  the  bill,  chiefly  from  Bartown  and  the 
state  capital;  the  committee  having  obligingly 
placed  the  hearing  on  a  Saturday  to  accommodate 
the  teachers.  The  only  opponent  that  Billy  could 
see  anywhere  was  Dreiser,  though  she  supposed 
there  must  be  others.  He  sat  beside  the  chairman 
of  the  committee,  with  whom  he  chatted  from 
time  to  time. 

The  disposition  of  their  short  time  had  been 
carefully  planned  In  such  a  manner  as  to  give  It 
a  representative  quality.  Professor  Andrews  was 
to  Introduce  the  speakers,  thus  lending  his  per- 
sonal backing  and  Influence  without  making  a 
speech,  and  representing  the  male  element  among 
the  teachers;  *'mere  man,"  as  he  remarked.  Mc- 
Plke  spoke  for  the  trades  unions,  which  had  made 
the  bill  one  of  their  own  measures.  Professor  An- 
drews' old  pupil,  who  had  Introduced  the  bill, 
supported  It  in  an  able  speech,  representing  the 
general  public.  The  president  of  the  Woman's 
Club,  a  handsome,  distinguished-looking  woman 
of  middle  age,  elegantly  dressed  and  a  very  good 
speaker,  was  supposed  in  their  little  scheme  to 
represent  wealth  and  social  influence.  To  Billy, 
representing  the  teachers,  was  left  the  rebuttal, 


142  CRAYON   CLUE 

as  it  was  believed  she  was  best  fitted  to  answer 
offhand  any  objections  which  might  be  raised. 

The  three  ten-minute  speeches  with  which  the 
friends  of  the  bill  opened  the  hearing  were  all  con- 
cise, convincing  and  to  the  point,  and  were  warmly 
applauded  by  the  throng  of  friends  that  filled  the 
room.    Then  the  floor  was  given  to  Dreiser. 

He  rose  slowly,  and  began  speaking  in  a  gentle, 
unemotional  way,  without  a  trace  of  spite  or  sar- 
casm, and  with  just  a  touch  of  deprecation  and 
regret. 

"I  know  that  I  am  in  the  minority  here  today," 
he  said;  ''an  unpopular  minority.  I  dislike  the 
position  as  much  as  any  of  you  can  dislike  to  see 
me  in  it.  It  is  not  pleasant  for  me  to  oppose  the 
great  body  of  conscientious  teachers  who  desire 
this  law.  It  is  not  pleasant  to  oppose  a  distin- 
guished body  of  the  best  and  most  representative 
women  of  the  state." 

He  made  a  slight,  courteous  inclination  to  the 
president  of  the  Woman's  Club. 

"I  am  not  representing  the  teachers  here  to- 
day; I  am  not  representing  the  trades  unions;  I 
am  not  representing  the  ladies.  I  am  merely  rep- 
resenting the  practical  management  of  the  schools. 

"In  that  capacity  you  must  pardon  me  if  I  say 
things  which  may  not  be  agreeable ;  things  which 
do  not  seem  courteous;  things  which  may  not  seem 
even  kindly.     I  say  them  not  because  I  wish  to 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  1 43 

say  them,  but  because  they  are  necessary  if  the 
bearing  of  this  bill  is  to  be  understood. 

"The  effect  of  this  bill  will  be  to  make  it  very 
difficult  to  discharge  a  teacher.  The  tendency 
will  be  to  make  the  teacher's  position  permanent, 
after  it  has  once  been  proved,  during  her  proba- 
tionary period,  that  she  is  a  good  and  compe- 
tent teacher. 

"I  understand  to  the  full  the  plea  of  the  friends 
of  this  bill  that  after  the  teacher  has  thus  shown 
herself  competent,  by  fulfilling  her  requirements 
demanded  by  the  law,  and  proving  her  fitness  by 
four  years  of  practical  work,  she  ought  to  feel 
secure  in  her  position.  I  appreciate  to  the  full 
the  claim  that  she  ought  not  to  be  discharged  at 
the  whim  of  a  superior;  through  personal  dislike, 
petty  tyranny  or  nepotism.  I  admit  the  truth  of 
the  claim  that  it  will  always  be  possible  to  dis- 
charge a  teacher  for  incompetency,  neglect  of 
duty,  unbecoming  personal  conduct,  or  insubordi- 
nation. Such  charges  are  always  susceptible  of 
proof,  and  school  authorities  will  not  be  afraid  to 
make  them  because  they  will  know  that  public 
opinion  will  support  them. 

"I  admit  all  these  things.  I  admit  also  that 
the  teacher  is  legally  a  part  of  the  school  system, 
as  much  as  the  superintendent  or  the  school  board, 
that  her  experience  frequently  renders  her  opin- 
ion on  school  management  valuable,  and  that  she 
should  feel  at  full  liberty  to  state  that  opinion 


144  CRAYON    CLUE 

without  fear  of  discharge  from  offended  su- 
periors. 

''Nevertheless  there  are  reasons,  good,  full  and 
ample  reasons,  why  for  the  good  of  the  schools 
this  bill  should  not  pass. 

"The  common  school  teachers  of  this  country 
are  very  largely  women.  In  1901  only  27.8  per 
cent,  of  them  were  men.  This  percentage  is  prob- 
ably decreased  now,  and  the  men  In  the  profession 
are  largely  in  administrative  positions  and  spe- 
cial lines  of  work  which  for  various  reasons  would 
cause  the  provisions  of  this  bill  to  affect  them 
much  less  than  the  women  who  make  up  the  solid 
body  of  the  teaching  profession. 

"The  simple  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  the  posi- 
tions of  these  women  should  not  be  made  perma- 
nent. They  should  not  teach  for  life.  Instead  of 
making  It  more  difficult  to  discharge  them,  they 
should  be  discharged  more  frequently  than  they 
are,  and  younger  than  they  are.  A  woman  should 
never,  except  in  very  exceptional  circumstances,  be 
allowed  to  grow  old  In  the  schools.  These  are 
facts  not  because  of  anything  against  their  charac- 
ter or  their  ability,  but  simply  because  they  are 
women." 

The  five  pairs  of  eyes  in  the  committee  suddenly 
raised  themselves  to  Dreiser's  face.  A  hush  of 
strained  attention  fell  over  the  room. 

"I  yield  to  no  man  in  this  country  in  my  re- 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE         I45 

spect  for  the  women  of  the  teaching  profession," 
went  on  Dreiser  steadily. 

*'It  is  an  annual  astonishment  to  see  the  charm- 
ing young  women  who  come  out  of  the  colleges 
and  normal  schools  to  seek  places  as  teachers. 
They  are  in  large  proportion  brimming  with  life, 
eager,  hopeful,  earnest,  well-bred,  conscientious, 
pretty,  delightful." 

His  voice  maintained  the  same  gentle,  respect- 
ful tone,  yet  around  the  mouths  of  the  commit- 
tee members  a  smile  began  to  creep. 

"Now  and  then  there  is  an  exception,"  con- 
tinued Dreiser,  "but  as  a  rule  the  young  women 
who  enter  upon  teaching  every  year  are  a  credit 
to  their  sex  and  time.  Teaching  gets  the  pick  of 
women  who  must  earn  their  living.  No  one  can 
estimate  the  debt  which  the  schools  of  America 
owe  to  this  great  company  of  well-trained,  joyous, 
attractive  young  women  who  enter  it  year  by  year. 

"But  this  applies  only  to  the  young  teacher.  At 
28  a  woman  teacher  is  at  the  zenith  of  her  pow- 
ers. Men  reach  their  highest  eligibility  at  40; 
women  at  28.  In  the  great  majority  of  cases 
there  is  a  gradual  but  steady  deterioration  in  her 
powers  after  that  age.  There  are  exceptions,  but 
we  cannot  legislate  for  exceptions.  We  must  legis- 
late for  the  majority. 

"What  is  the  reason  of  this  earlier  cessation  of 
professional  growth  on  the  part  of  the  woman? 
Ah,  my  friends,  in  the  answer  to  that  lies  the 


146  CRAYON    CLUE 

tragedy  of  the  modern  woman;  the  modern 
woman,  who  seeks  to  keep  pace  with  man  in  all 
things,  and  never  can;  not  because  she  is  neces- 
sarily his  inferior  mentally,  for  she  may  not  be; 
but  simply  because  she  is  a  woman. 

"A  man  is  a  man  whether  he  is  a  husband  and 
father  or  not.  His  life  work,  the  fulfilment  of 
his  best  possibilities  as  an  individual,  lies  entirely 
aside  from  these  personal  relations.  But  a  woman 
is  not  truly  a  woman  unless  she  is  a  wife  and 
mother. 

*Man's  love  is  of  man*s  life  a  part; 
'Tis  woman's  whole  existence/ 

No  woman  realizes  her  best  possibilities,  no 
woman  leads  a  truly  normal  life,  who  remains 
unmarried. 

"In  the  complicated  life  of  our  present  day  the 
marriageable  age  has  been  pushed  much  later  for 
both  men  and  women  than  it  was  even  a  genera- 
tion ago.  In  our  grandmothers*  day  a  girl  of  14 
was  marriageable.  In  our  mothers'  day  a  girl  of 
20  who  had  not  had  an  offer  was  called  an  old 
maid.  But  today  there  is  still  hope  for  the  woman 
of  28." 

The  creeping  smile  broadened  into  a  grin  on 
the  faces  of  the  committee. 

"At  28,  however,  the  woman  who  is  not  yet 
bespoken,  who  sees  no  prospect  of  marriage  be- 
fore her,  begins  to  lose  hope.     She  begins  to  ac- 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE         1 47 

cept  permanent  splnsterhood.  She  begins  to  see 
stretching  ahead  of  her  the  long  years  in  which 
she  will  tread  the  path  alone,  unsupported  by  the 
love  of  man  and  the  affections  of  the  family. 
From  that  day  her  efficiency  as  a  teacher  ceases 
to  grow,  and  begins  subtly  to  deteriorate.  In 
some  this  deterioration  is  very  marked;  in  some 
very  slight.  In  a  very  small  percentage  it  is  never 
seen.  They  are  the  mannish  women;  the  minds 
of  men  in  the  bodies  of  women,  and  their  number 
is  so  few  that  we  need  not  take  them  into  account. 

*'It  may  seem  a  brutal  thing  to  say  that  women 
should  be  discharged  from  the  schools  simply  be- 
cause they  have  failed  to  marry.  But  such  is  ab- 
solutely the  case.  The  abounding  hope,  vitality, 
interest  in  life,  which  made  them  so  valuable  in 
their  early  years  of  teaching,  all  leave  them  when 
the  inner  conviction  creeps  upon  them  that  they 
have  been  left  by  the  wayside,  that  the  normal  life 
of  woman  is  not  to  be  theirs. 

"But  this  is  not  all.  As  the  schools  have  the 
pick  of  the  young  women  who  enter  the  wage- 
earning  world  each  year,  so  the  young  men  have 
the  pick  of  the  young  women  who  enter  the 
schools.  There  is  no  superintendent  of  schools  in 
the  United  States  who  has  not  grasped  his  hair 
in  despair  in  the  merry  month  of  June,  as  the 
resignation  of  teacher  after  teacher  poured  in 
upon  him;  dozens,  scores,  hundreds  sometimes  in 
large  cities — the  very  best  of  his  flock — all  leav- 


148  CRAYON   CLUE 

ing  to  be  married.  There  is  no  superintendent,  I 
say,  who  has  not  found  it  in  his  heart  to  curse 
these  young  men,  wolves  in  the  fold,  who  with 
cheerful  smiles  at  his  dilemma,  debonnairely  car- 
ried away  his  finest  teachers.  Unfortunately  for 
teaching,  the  young  men  get  the  first  choice,  and 
they  usually  choose  wisely.  Ask  any  superintend- 
ent which  he  would  rather  have  for  permanent 
teachers,  the  women  who  did  marry  during  the 
first  six  years  of  teaching  or  the  women  who 
didn't?  Of  course  this  does  not  apply  to  you, 
dear  sisters,  who  have  come  to  this  hearing  to- 
day, but  the  board  of  education  thinks  it  true  of 
the  other  teachers  in  your  building." 

He  made  a  slight,  smiling  inclination  towards 
the  women  massed  at  the  end  of  the  room,  and 
the  committee  burst  out  laughing. 

Dreiser  looked  grave. 

"I  never  laugh  at  this  matter,"  said  he  simply. 
"It  is  not  to  the  discredit  of  women  that  so  many 
of  them  cannot  marry.  There  are  not  men  enough 
to  go  around  and  never  have  been.  Nevertheless 
the  result  Is  what  I  have  said.  Our  fairest  roses 
are  plucked,  and  those  less  perfect  left  behind." 

There  was  a  note  of  kindly  regret,  of  gentle 
pity  in  his  tone,  which  touched  Billy's  mounting 
anger  like  salt  upon  the  raw. 

**But  this  is  not  all,"  went  on  Dreiser.  "These 
insolent  young  men  are  not  only  carrying  away 
our  finest,  those  left  behind  not  only  degenerate 


BILLY   GOES    TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  1 49 

professionally,  they  also  degenerate  in  those  wom- 
anly graces  which  are  the  chief  excuse  for  their 
presence  in  the  schoolroom.  If  there  is  any  rea- 
son whatever  why  women  should  be  in  the  schools, 
when  men  can  teach  all  the  branches  which  they 
teach  just  as  well  as  they  can — or  better — it  is 
that  types  of  beautiful  and  lovable  womanhood 
should  be  kept  before  the  eyes  of  our  boys  and 
girls. 

"When  a  woman  reaches  the  age  when  she  can 
no  longer  attract  men,  when  she  sees  that  wife- 
hood and  motherhood  are  not  for  her,  she  begins 
to  deteriorate  in  all  those  qualities  which  make 
woman  beautiful  and  lovable. 

*'0n  one  occasion  I  sat  in  a  city  classroom,  the 
teacher  of  which  I  had  known  for  many  years. 
When  she  began  teaching  she  was  a  charming 
girl,  handsome,  winsome,  a  delight  to  meet.  Yet 
as  I  sat  there  during  the  change  of  classes  this 
woman  deliberately  plunged  her  little  finger  into 
her  left  ear,  dug  with  it,  and  in  sight  of  her  class 
examined  the  wax  she  had  gathered  and  removed 
it  upon  a  handkerchief. 

"Loathsome  to  tell,  you  remark?  Unquestion- 
ably, but  what  was  it  for  her  class  to  see,  boys 
and  girls  who  look  upon  their  high  school  teach- 
ers as  models  of  deportment?  It  was  not  that 
she  did  not  know  better.  At  twenty-five  she  could 
not  have  conceived  doing  such  a  thing.  She  would 
have  blushed  at  the  thought  of  anyone  else  doing 


150  CRAYON   CLUE 

it.  I  could  but  reflect  on  the  many,  many  steps 
of  descent  that  woman  had  dropped  from  the  day 
when  every  man  she  met  was  her  admirer  till  now 
when  she  no  longer  attracted  anybody,  or  cared 
whether  she  did  or  not  so  long  as  she  drew  her 
monthly  pay  and  her  place  was  secure  under  ten- 
ure of  office  rules. 

''My  friends,"  said  Dreiser  gravely,  "what  po- 
sition would  you  place  a  superintendent  in  with 
regard  to  such  an  incident  as  this  if  you  passed 
this  bill?  Had  that  woman  been  on  my  own  staff 
I  would  have  dropped  her  at  the  close  of  the  year; 
dropped  her  without  reason  or  explanation  given. 
Had  she  come  to  me  and  demanded  the  reason,  I 
would  have  told  it  frankly — to  her  alone.  But 
no  consideration  would  have  forced  me  to  make  it 
public.  But  if  you  pass  this  bill,  I  am  either 
forced  to  retain  such  a  woman,  or  I  am  compelled 
to  disgrace  and  humiliate  her  in  the  eyes  of  the 
public,  and  give  her  story  to  be  spread  upon  the 
pages  of  the  newspapers. 

''I  tell  you,  gentlemen,  the  men  in  management 
of  the  schools  know  more  of  these  things  than 
they  ever  tell  or  want  to  tell.  It  is  a  tendency 
which  boards  of  education  have  learned  to  rec- 
ognize and  guard  against.  When  a  woman  be- 
comes barrel-shaped  she  cares  more  for  comfort 
than  for  comeliness." 

There  was  a  shout  of  laughter  from  the  com- 


BILLY  GOES   TO  THE   LEGISLATURE         I5I 

mittee,  while  the  massed  women  sat  silent,  help- 
less, with  a  growing  sense  of  insult. 

*'A  still  further  reason  is  also  connected  with 
sex,"  continued  the  speaker. 

"The  women  teachers  of  America  are  remark- 
ably free  from  scandal.  There  is  no  other  class 
equally  exposed  of  whom  the  percentage  who  lay 
themselves  open  to  criticism  is  so  small.  But  there 
are  few  women  who  have  been  six  years  in  the 
public  schools  who  have  escaped  indignity.  How 
many  a  woman  who  hears  this  can  recall  an  an- 
gering famiHarity  of  tone,  perhaps  of  touch,  when 
she  has  had  to  deal  with  men  to  secure  election 
or  carry  out  some  project?  The  young  woman 
teacher  soon  learns  that  In  dealing  with  public 
men  she  Is  likely  to  be  looked  at  coarsely,  as  a 
possible  instrument  of  pleasure,  and  Is  obhged 
to  answer  questions  and  listen  to  suggestions 
which  are  to  her  soul  as  loathsome  as  a  grimy 
hand  upon  a  fresh  muslin  gown.  It  Is  the  ex- 
perience of  all  unprotected  women,  and  comes 
perhaps  oftenest  to  the  teacher  because  by  her 
annual  employment  and  her  frequent  need  of 
equipment  for  her  work  she  Is  oftenest  obliged 
to  ask  favors  from  men. 

"No  one  will  for  a  moment  think  that  In  so 
speaking  I  reflect  upon  the  teacher.  No,  the  re- 
flection is  entirely  upon  men  of  the  coarser  type, 
whose  first  thought  of  a  woman  Is  always  as  an 
animal.     But  public  school  teachers  have  to  deal 


152  CRAYON   CLUE 

With  this  class  of  men  at  times;  and  the  effect  Is 
to  produce  in  the  teacher  above  twenty-eight  a 
pessimism,  a  contempt  for  mankind,  that  is  not 
heahhful,  and  that  boards  of  education  shrink 
from.  We  do  not  want  the  soured  and  pessimis- 
tic type  of  womanhood  in  our  schools,  in  con- 
tact with  the  impressionable  minds  of  our  chil- 
dren. We  want  only  the  trustful,  happy,  hope- 
ful type  of  mind.'* 

A  feeling  drifted  over  the  women  present  that 
they  were  all  being  besmirched;  that  in  the  eyes 
of  the  men  upon  the  committee  every  one  of  them 
lay  under  suspicion  of  having  suffered  familiari- 
ties to  get  her  job. 

"And  last  of  all,"  went  on  that  soft,  inexorable 
voice,  "experienced  boards  of  education  have 
learned  that  there  Is  a  period,  long  and  trying, 
that  occurs  between  the  ages  of  forty  and  fifty 
with  women,  and  sometimes  renders  the  best  of 
them  for  a  time  impossible.  Above  twenty-eight, 
not  a  long  period  is  required  to  reach  this  period, 
the  possibilities  of  which  are  portentous.  I  will 
not  say  more  upon  It,  no  manly  man  can  feel 
aught  but  pity  In  considering  this  sad  handicap 
which  nature  has  laid  upon  women,  but  never- 
theless the  schools  must  not  be  allowed  to  suffer 
because  of  It.  What  man,  gentlemen,  what  man 
of  decency,  could  make  a  public  charge  of  this 
kind  as  a  reason  for  dismissal?  And  yet  if  you 
pass  this  tenure  of  office  bill  you  force  him  to  do 


BILLY   GOES   TO  THE    LEGISLATURE  1 53 

either  that,  or  to  allow  to  remain  women  who 
from  the  very  physical  facts  of  their  sex  are  unlit 
to  be  in  charge  of  a  classroom."  * 

He  sat  down.  Upon  the  faces  of  the  committee 
had  crept  a  prurient  look.  They  were  all  smiling. 
Dreiser  had  not  made  the  mistake  of  the  novice 
at  a  legislative  hearing  and  addressed  the  crowd. 
He  had  spoken  straight  to  the  committee,  stand- 
ing near  it  and  using  a  low  tone  which  the  others 
had  to  strain  to  hear.  In  effect  it  seemed  that  he 
and  the  committee  were  in  confidential  confer- 
ence, that  the  throng  of  women  was  out  of  it, 
a  negligible  quantity  in  a  matter  to  be  decided 
entirely  by  Dreiser  and  the  legislators. 

The  little  group  of  managers  of  the  teachers' 
bill  looked  with  concern  at  Billy.  It  was  a  hard 
speech  to  answer,  a  hard  statement  against  which 
to  bring  rebuttal.  It  contained  things  impossible 
to  disprove,  it  put  the  teachers  entirely  upon  the 
defensive,  it  turned  the  whole  hearing  into  a  farce, 
and  a  subtly  insulting  farce.  Mrs.  Courtney,  the 
president  of  the  Woman's  Club,  felt  keenly  that 
a  girl  like  Billy  should  not  be  permitted  to  an- 
swer that  speech;  that  she,  the  middle-aged 
matron  among  the  speakers,  should  be  the  one  to 
handle  it.  But  she  felt  utterly  helpless  to  do  so 
effectively,  and  sent  a  little  note  to  Billy  to  this 
effect. 

*  Mr.  Dreiser  quoted  very  largely  in  his  speech,  from  an  article 
in  the  Educational  Review  of  January,  191 2. 


154  CRAYON   CLUE 

Professor  Andrews  was  also  deeply  concerned, 
and  looked  at  Billy  questlonlngly.  He  would 
have  spoken  if  she  had  offered  him  her  time. 
McPike,  red  with  wrath,  took  occasion  to  whis- 
per to  her  that  he  would  trim  the  bruiser  down 
if  she  wanted  him  to. 

But  Billy  shook  her  head.  The  speech  had 
amazed  and  confounded  her.  The  arguments 
which  she  had  prepared  In  rebuttal,  covering  the 
various  points  on  which  objections  were  likely  to 
be  made,  were  useless.  Something  new,  something 
spontaneous  and  impromptu  must  be  devised. 
The  turning  of  the  whole  argument  upon  a  ques- 
tion of  sex  had  been  utterly  unexpected.  She  felt 
in  one  way  that  it  was  unsuitable  that  any  young, 
unmarried  woman  should  answer  such  a  speech. 
And  yet  in  another  she  felt  that  it  was  laid  upon 
her  to  do  It;  that  one  of  the  teachers  themselves 
must  answer  these  things;  for  the  honor  and  de- 
cency of  the  profession;  that  if  they  could  not 
they  confessed  themselves  Dreiser's  inferiors,  un- 
able to  cope  with  him. 

These  things  and  others  boiled  through  her 
mind  as  she  sat  listening  to  him.  She  had  to 
frame  her  answer  while  he  was  speaking.  She 
was  intensely  angry.  She  realized  that  she  must 
not  show  that  anger.  It  is  the  tendency  of  all 
women  to  cry  when  they  are  intensely  angry. 
Billy  had  to  crush  the  tears  back  with  an  ex- 
traordinary effort.     She  realized  that  it  was  not 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  1 55 

SO  much  an  argument  for  the  bill  which  she  was 
called  upon  to  produce,  as  an  effect;  some  effect, 
in  some  way,  which  should  destroy  that  created 
by  Dreiser. 

While  he  had  been  speaking  she  had  scribbled 
a  little  note  to  Denny  McPike.  On  reading  it  he 
had  slipped  out  of  the  room,  and  on  his  return 
handed  to  her  a  yellow  pamphlet.  On  rising  to 
speak  she  held  this  pamphlet  in  her  hand. 

She  stood  looking  at  the  committee  a  moment. 
The  members,  on  their  part,  surveyed  her  with 
attention.  It  had  been  a  dry  hearing,  except  for 
the  wit  and  humor  introduced  into  it  by  Dreiser. 
They  were  pleased  and  interested  to  see  a  woman 
so  young  and  beautiful  as  Billy  advance  into  the 
ring.  They  had  been  smiling  continuously 
throughout  Dreiser's  speech.  The  expression  of 
this  collective  smile  now  grew  pleased  and  in- 
dulgent. It  came  over  Billy  that  what  she  wanted 
to  do  was  not  to  get  the  bill  through  or  even  an- 
swer Dreiser,  but  just  to  wipe  off  that  smile :  just 
to  wipe  that  smile  off  their  faces  and  make  them 
look  uncomfortable  for  one  minute. 

"The  gentleman  who  preceded  me  made  the 
statement,"  she  began,  **that  the  reason  women 
remained  single  was  because  there  were  not  men 
enough  to  go  around  and  never  had  been.  I  have 
in  my  hand  one  of  the  reports  of  the  last  Fed- 
eral census,  brought  me  from  the  state  library.    I 


156  CRAYON    CLUE 

find  from  its  figures  that  there  are  two  million 
more  men  than  women  in  the  United  States. 

"This  would  indicate  that  if  there  were  a  gen- 
eral round  up,  and  all  the  marriageable  persons 
of  both  sexes  were  forced  to  pair  off,  that  some 
two  million  men  would  have  to  flock  by  them- 
selves." She  paused  one  second.  "Mr.  Dreiser 
is  not  married,  I  believe,"  she  said. 

The  whole  room  laughed,  and  the  committee 
lay  back  and  whooped.  It  was  playing  to  the 
gallery,  and  Billy  knew  it,  but  she  wanted  some 
sharp  and  sudden  stab  to  turn  the  laugh  from  the 
teachers,  where  Dreiser  had  had  it  the  last  half 
hour,  and  against  himself,  and  this  was  all  she 
could  think  of.  Dreiser  himself  laughed  as  hard 
as  anyone,  and  clapped  his  hands. 

"I  don't  blame  Mr.  Dreiser  a  bit,"  went  on 
Billy,  in  a  perfectly  reasonable  tone,  "for  liking 
young  women  better  than  old  ones.  All  men  do 
that.  It  is  just  the  same  with  women.  Those 
young  girls  now,  whom  Mr.  Dreiser  admires  so 
much,  probably  think  a  good  deal  more  of  boys  of 
their  own  age  than  they  do  of  a  man  as  old  as 
Mr.  Dreiser,  for  instance. 

"Then  as  to  the  older  women  who  don't  seem 
to  care  anything  about  attracting  men  any  more, 
I  know  just  how  the  last  speaker  feels  about  it. 
We  women  teachers  have  just  the  same  experience 
with  some  of  the  men  in  the  schools.  Some  of 
them  don't  seem  to  care  a  snap  whether  we  ad- 


BILLY   GOES   TO  THE    LEGISLATURE  1 57 

mire  them  or  not.  There  is  one  who  will  come  to 
school  with  his  coat  collar  all  covered  with 
dandruff." 

Every  eye  in  the  room,  as  if  moved  by  a  crank, 
turned  to  Dreiser^s  coat  collar. 

"It  pains  us,'*  continued  Billy,  "to  see  that  some 
of  them  wear  their  nails  in  piourning,  and  that 
now  and  then  there  is  one  who  must  omit  to  brush 
his  teeth,  because  he  has  a  very  bad  breath." 

This  discourse  was  punctuated  throughout  with 
laughter.  It  was  a  base  mode  of  warfare,  but 
Billy  felt  that  it  had  been  forced  upon  her. 

"We  never  thought  before  of  referring  to  these 
things  in  public,"  she  said,  speaking  straight  to 
the  committee.  "It  didn't  seem  either  polite  or 
necessary  to  us.  But  since  the  gentleman  says 
some  of  us  are  not  pretty,  we  must  remind  him 
that  that  Is  true  of  both  men  and  women,  not 
only  in  the  schools,  but  everywhere. 

"The  gentleman  claims  that  only  the  young 
women  under  28  are  good  teachers.  If  that  is  so, 
it's  queer  that  whenever  you  find  a  woman  in  any 
high  office  in  the  schools,  getting  a  good  salary — 
as  good  as  a  man's — she  Is  sure  to  be  an  older 
woman.  Forty  per  cent,  of  the  principals  of  the 
St.  Louis  schools  are  women;  forty-five  per  cent, 
of  those  in  New  York  and  Bartown;  6^  per  cent, 
in  Philadelphia.  You  won't  find  a  girl  under  28 
in  the  lot.     Queer  how  these  unattractive  old 


158  CRAYON   CLUE 

things  manage  to  nail  all  the  good  jobs,  and  with 
men  to  appoint  them,  too. 

"The  United  States  government  has  kept  a 
woman  superintendent  of  its  Indian  schools  for 
years.  I  have  met  her;  she's  no  spring  chicken 
now  I  tell  you. 

''Mr.  Dreiser  says  that  very  few  women  es- 
cape indignities  from  men  in  securing  their  posi- 
tions."   Billy's  voice  rang  out  sharp  and  clear. 

"This  is  interesting,  considering  that  not  a 
woman  can  secure  a  position  in  the  schools  of 
Bartown  except  through  Mr.  Dreiser. 

"I  do  not  know  whether  Mr.  Dreiser's  state- 
ment Is  true  or  not.  I  was  not  appointed  by  Mr. 
Dreiser.  I  was  appointed  by  Dr.  Haswell.  Dr. 
Haswell  was  superintendent  of  the  Bartown 
schools  for  twenty-five  years,  and  I  wish  to  say 
that  during  his  Incumbency  the  schools  of  the 
metropolis  of  this  state  were  famous  throughout 
the  civilized  world. 

"The  Roseberry  commission,  appointed  by  the 
British  government  to  examine  the  metropolitan 
school  systems  of  America,  France  and  Germany, 
reported  that  taking  Into  consideration  the  size 
of  the  city,  the  extent  and  difficulties  of  the  for- 
eign population  to  be  dealt  with,  and  the  results 
obtained,  the  city  of  Bartown  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  great  cities  of  those  three  countries  in  its 
schools. 

"The  system  that  won  that  international  com- 


BILLY  GOES   TO  THE    LEGISLATURE         1 59 

mendation,  that  placed  the  name  of  this  state 
upon  the  lips  of  every  educator  the  world  over, 
was  not  built  up  under  the  man  who  has  spoken 
here  today.  It  was  built  up  under  Dr.  Haswell, 
and  it  is  Dr.  Haswell's  old  teachers  and  princi- 
pals who  are  here  urging  the  passage  of  this  bill. 
I  have  heard  Dr.  Haswell  make  many  addresses 
on  school  matters,  hundreds  of  them,  I  think.  I 
never  heard  him  make  any  such  plea  as  his  suc- 
cessor has  made  here  today,  and  neither  did  any- 
one else.  I  challenge  anyone  in  this  state,  any- 
one in  these  United  States,  to  instance  one  occa- 
sion on  which  Dr.  Haswell  found  it  necessary  to 
slur  the  women  teachers  of  the  schools ;  to  sneer  at 
and  ridicule  them  as  has  been  done  here  this 
morning. 

"He  never  did  It.  He  never  found  it  neces- 
sary to  do  it.  He  respected  the  women  who 
taught  under  him,  and  they  respected  him.  I 
taught  under  Dr.  Haswell.  I  am  personally  ac- 
quainted with  hundreds  of  women  who  taught  un- 
der him.  I  never  heard  one  of  them  refer  to  In- 
dignities received  under  his  regime.  If  condi- 
tions have  changed  under  Mr.  Dreiser — why,  he 
is  the  one  best  qualified  to  know,  and  you  have 
heard  what  he  has  said." 

The  smile  had  come  off  now.  Every  member 
of  the  committee  was  sitting  straight  up  and  star- 
ing hard  at  the  speaker.  It  was  not  in  order  for 
a  pretty  little  girl  like  this  to  talk  in  this  sledge- 


l60  CRAYON    CLUE 

hammer  way  to  and  about  men.  They  had  not 
expected  it.  Yet  they  all  knew  the  name  of  Has- 
well.  Her  words  carried  conviction,  and  she  had 
skilfully  touched  the  chords  of  state  and  local 
pride. 

"Mr.  Dreiser's  argument,  as  I  understand  it, 
is  that  because  women  suffer  these  'indignities'  " 
— she  emphasized  each  ''because" — "because  they 
must  endure  'angering  familiarities,'  because  some 
men  think  of  a  woman  first  'as  an  animal' — the 
words  are  his,  not  mine — therefore  as  soon  as  a 
girl  has  acquired  sense  and  experience  enough  to 
resent  these  things,  she  should  be  discharged 
from  the  schools. 

"That  is  his  argument. 

"Gentlemen,  I  know  nothing  of  the  family  life 
of  any  member  of  this  committee.  But  I  know 
enough  about  American  life  in  general  to  feel  sure 
that  there  Is  not  a  man  among  you  who  has  not 
somewhere  or  other  a  woman  relative  who  is 
earning  her  living.  If  It  Is  not  a  daughter  or  sis- 
ter, it  Is  a  cousin  or  some  more  distant  connec- 
tion. I  want  to  put  it  up  to  you  gentlemen,  I 
want  to  ask  you  as  American  men,  what  you  think 
of  the  proposition  deliberately  made  here  today, 
that  because  these  women  may  be  insulted  by  cads 
or  brutes — such  as  Mr.  Dreiser  says  the  men  that 
run  the  schools  are — because  of  this  these  women 
should  be  discharged  from  their  positions  as  soon 
as  they  show  resentment  for  this  treatment." 


BILLY  GOES   TO   THE   LEGISLATURE         l6l 

The  smile  was  all  off  now.  Not  one  gleam  of 
amusement  showed  In  any  look  bent  upon  Billy. 
To  himself  Denny  McPike  was  saying,  *'0h,  Billy, 
ye  little  divvle  ye." 

**Mr.  Dreiser,"  went  on  Billy,  ^'asserts  that  the 
old  teacher  is  not  a  good  teacher,  that  she  is  not 
the  right  type  of  womanhood  to  have  before  the 
children,  that  she  ought  to  be  discharged,  and 
ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  grow  old  in  the  schools. 

"I  know  just  one  man  upon  this  committee  to- 
day. I  know  him,  although  he  does  not  know  me ; 
the  gentleman  from  Bartown,  Mr.  James  B. 
Munson.  I  know  him  because  he  is  very  well 
known  in  the  city  of  Bartown,  and  I  have  heard 
him  speak  at  public  meetings  more  than  once." 

Everybody  looked  at  Mr.  Munson,  and  that 
gentleman  looked  slightly  apprehensive. 

"I  remember  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  Mr. 
Munson  speak,"  went  on  Billy. 

"It  was  the  night  he  graduated  from  Public 
School  59.  He  was  the  valedictorian  of  his  class. 
Mr.  Munson  has  had  many  triumphs  since  then, 
but  I  venture  to  say  not  one  of  them  has  ever 
been  so  sweet  to  him  as  the  one  he  had  that 
night." 

Mr.  Munson  tried  to  preserve  an  inscrutable 
expression,  but  he  could  not  help  looking  pleasant. 
"Oh,  Billy,  ye  darlin',"  communed  Mr.  McPike 
with  his  soul;  "and  her  a-praisin'  up  that  ward 
heeler." 


1 62  CRAYON    CLUE 

*'I  was  a  little  girl  then,"  said  Billy;  *'but  I 
went  to  those  graduating  exercises  that  night  In 
the  big  assembly  hall  In  old  P.  S.  59.  I  went  with 
my  mother,  because  I  went  to  school  In  old  59.  I 
was  a  schoolmate  of  Mr.  Munson's,  though  he 
doesn't  know  It.  I  was  a  little  girl  down  in  the 
fifth  grade  when  he  was  the  valedictorian  of  the 
graduating  class. 

"I  heard  him  give  the  valedictory  that  night. 
His  mother  was  there.  I  remember  her,  an  old 
grey-haired  lady  she  was;  I  remember  because 
my  mother  went  up  to  speak  to  her  and  congratu- 
late her  after  the  exercises  were  over,  and  she 
was  so  pleased  that  she  was  crying. 

"Mr.  Munson  graduated  from  59;  he  grew  up 
in  59;  he  never  went  to  any  other  school.  That 
was  In  old  Dr.  Haswell's  time.  Dr.  Haswell  kept 
one  woman  at  the  head  of  59  for  years.  He 
wasn't  afraid  to  let  her  grow  old  in  the  schools. 
She  did  grow  old  In  the  schools.  She  was  prin- 
cipal of  59  for  30  years,  and  not  only  Mr.  Mun- 
son but  many  another  man  who  plays  an  able 
and  honorable  part  In  the  public  affairs  of  Bar- 
town  got  the  whole  of  his  schooling  under  Miss 
Margaret  Lawrence.  Former  Mayor  Adolph 
Wurz  was  one  of  them. 

"I  know  those  old  boys  of  59  respected  Miss 
Lawrence,  because  when  she  completed  her  25th 
year  as  principal  of  that  school,  her  former  pu- 


BILLY  GOES   TO  THE    LEGISLATURE         1 63 

pils  gave  her  a  banquet;  and  that  was  another 
time  when  I  heard  Mr.  Munson  speak. 

*'Many  of  her  old  boys,  now  prominent  men 
in  Bartown,  attended  that  banquet  and  spoke  that 
night,  and  they  gave  her  a  present;  a  round  trip, 
six  months'  ticket  to  Europe.  I  remember  when 
she  stood  up  to  receive  it — a  little  grey-haired 
woman  in  the  midst  of  all  those  well-known  men, 
and  how  we  all  stood  up  and  cheered  her,  and 
how  proud  and  pleased  she  looked." 

The  girl  had  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  Munson's 
face.    She  had  watched  it  change  and  soften. 

"Miss  Lawrence  is  dead  now,"  said  Billy, 
gently.  *'Some  one  else  sits  in  her  old  office  at 
59 — that  old  office  where  the  teachers  used  to 
send  us  when  they  couldn't  stand  us  a  minute  lon- 
ger. She's  gone,  along  with  our  childhood.  But 
she  was  a  part  of  that  childhood.  She  had  a  hand 
in  making  us  what  we  are.  If  we're  of  any  ac- 
count in  the  world,  she  has  a  right  to  part  of  the 
credit." 

The  girl's  beautiful,  silvery  voice  dropped  each 
word  sweetly.  There  are  infinite  chords  to  be 
touched  in  all  of  us.  Each  reacts  with  its  appro- 
priate feeling,  each  brings  its  own  expression  to 
the  face.  The  speaker  was  touching  now  that 
oldest  chord  of  sentiment,  the  recollection  of 
childhood  and  its  familiar  scenes.  Billy  had  that 
first  essential  of  the  orator:  she  forgot  herself 
when  she  began  to  speak.     She  was  no  longer 


1 64  CRAYON   CLUE 

angry.  The  response  of  her  audience,  intense  and 
highstrung  on  the  part  of  the  great  mass  of  it, 
had  touched  her  into  exaltation.  She  was  self- 
hypnotized. 

*'Mr.  Dreiser  doesn't  know  much  about  the 
Bartown  schools,"  she  went  on  gently,  her  eyes 
on  Munson's  face.  "He  hasn't  been  in  Bartown 
very  long,  or  in  this  state  very  long.  But  Mr. 
Munson  and  I  are  old-timers.  We  know  the  Bar- 
town  schools.  He  and  I  had  only  women  teachers 
at  59.  Some  of  them  were  young,  some  were  old. 
I  would  like  to  ask  Mr.  Munson,  as  an  old  P.  S. 
59  boy,  if  he  feels  that  his  ideals  of  womanhood 
were  injured  or  lowered  by  the  women  he  knew 

at  59?" 

She  stopped,  and  every  eye  in  the  room  was 
fixed  on  the  committee  member.  That  gentleman 
looked  somewhat  surprised,  but  he  rose  with- 
out hesitation  and  said,  "I  certainly  had  no  inten- 
tion of  taking  part  in  this  discussion,  but  since 
the  direct  question  has  been  put  to  me,  I  will  say 
that  all  the  speaker's  statements  are  true,  so  far 
as  I  am  aware. 

"I  will  also  say  that  my  recollections  of  the 
teachers  at  Public  School  59  do  not  bear  out  the 
remarks  of  the  distinguished  gentleman  who  has 
appeared  in  opposition  to  the  bill. 

"Some  of  those  teachers  were  old,  as  Miss  Pen- 
nington has  said.  Some  of  them  might  not  have 
been  handsome." 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  1 65 

He  looked  narrowly  at  Dreiser  and  the  other 
committee  members,  but  the  smile  did  not  come 
back. 

^'Sometimes  our  mothers  aren't  handsome," 
said  he  deliberately.  "We  don't  kick  out  our 
mothers  because  they  lose  their  looks;  I  don't 
know  why  we  should  the  teachers.  They're  doing 
the  same  kind  of  work — looking  after  the  klds.^ 
A  woman  doesn't  have  to  be  a  good  looker  to 
bring  up  children  right." 

He  sat  down,  and  so  did  Billy.  One  minute  of 
her  time  was  left,  but  she  thought  better  to  drop 
it  with  Mr.  Munson's  remark.  She  didn't  be- 
lieve she  could  close  with  anything  else  so  good. 

Professor  Andrews  announced  that  this  closed 
their  presentation  of  the  subject  and  the  commit- 
tee chairman  was  about  to  adjourn  the  hearing, 
when  Dreiser  rose  and  asked  If  he  might  have 
just  one  word. 

"I  object,"  said  Denny  McPike  fiercely,  leap- 
ing to  his  feet;  "the  gentleman  has  had  his  time. 
He  wasn't  promised  any  time  to  answer  rebuttal.'* 

Dreiser  looked  amused. 

"It  was  only  a  question  of  personal  privilege," 
he  said  mildly. 

"Mr.  Dreiser  has  the  floor  for  a  question  of 
personal  privilege,"  said  the  chairman. 

"I  merely  wished  to  say,"  said  Dreiser,  "that 
while  I  tried  as  well  as  I  could  in  my  brief  re- 
marks to  indicate  the  sort  of  teacher  that  was  de- 


1 66  CRAYON   CLUE 

sirable  In  the  schools,  that  no  words  of  mine  could 
ever  have  depicted  that  type  so  well  as  the  living 
illustration  of  my  ideal  in  the  last  speaker  of  the 
day." 

He  made  a  courtly  inclination  to  Billy.  Imme- 
diately the  smile  came  back,  except  to  Munson's 
face. 

"Miss  Pennington  pleads  for  a  tenure  of  office 
bill  so  that  the  teachers  may  be  able  to  speak  their 
minds  about  the  schools  without  fear  of  dis- 
charge." 

The  smile  grew  broad,  and  even  Munson 
looked  amused. 

"Miss  Pennington  doesn't  need  any  tenure  of 
office  bill.  I  can  assure  you  that  she  will  never  be 
discharged  from  the  schools  of  Bartown  even 
though  anybody  can  see  that  she  doesn't  like  her 
superintendent  a  bit." 

The  laughter  grew. 

"The  schools  want  teachers  just  like  Miss  Pen- 
nington. As  I  said  in  my  remarks,  the  only  trou- 
ble is  that  we  can't  get  enough  of  them.  It  isn't 
Miss  Pennington  the  schools  are  afraid  of — it's 
McPike." 

A  roar  of  laughter  went  up  and  the  hearing  ad- 
journed in  a  confusion  of  merriment.  There  was 
not  a  committeeman  there  who  did  not  believe 
that  Miss  Pennington  was  engaged  to  McPIke. 
In  one  minute's  speech  Dreiser  had  done  what  he 
wished  to  do ;  destroyed  the  effect  which  Billy  had 


BILLY  GOES   TO  THE   LEGISLATURE         1 67 

left,  put  her  in  the  position  of  a  pretty  child  to 
be  petted,  compHmented,  and  not  taken  seri- 
ously, and  thrown  the  whole  question  back  again 
into  that  sex  atmosphere  with  which  he  had  sur- 
rounded it. 

The  whole  meeting,  apparently,  surged  towards 
Billy  at  adjournment.  Dreiser  walked  straight 
to  her  and  held  out  his  hand. 

*'My  dear  Miss  Pennington,  permit  me  to  con- 
gratulate you  on  your  speech,"  he  said;  "it  was 
one  of  the  finest  things  of  its  kind  I  ever  heard." 

Billy  made  no  answer  and  did  not  take  his 
hand. 

He  stood  there,  holding  it  stretched  towards 
her,  in  full  view  of  the  surrounding  crowd,  ap- 
parently not  in  the  least  abashed  by  her  cut  di- 
rect. People  began  to  titter,  and  looking  up  she 
saw  that  Dreiser  was  laughing  at  her. 

"Ah,  Mrs.  Courtney,"  said  he,  turning  to  the 
club  woman  with  an  indulgent  smile;  "we  must 
train  our  little  orator  here  not  to  show  temper. 
She  is  too  young  yet  to  understand  that  personal 
feelings  must  not  enter  into  public  affairs." 

Mrs.  Courtney  saved  the  situation. 

"I  don't  think,"  said  she  negligently,  "that 
Miss  Pennington  is  too  young  to  fully  compre- 
hend the  state  of  affairs.  Come,  Billy,  let's  go 
and  get  some  lunch." 

She  gathered  up  her  rich  furs  and  turned  to- 
wards the  door. 


l69  CRAYON   CLUE 

She  signalled  a  cab  at  the  door,  for  which  Billy 
was  eternally  grateful,  for  it  got  her  away  from 
the  crowd.  The  girl  restrained  herself  until  she 
reached  their  sitting  room  at  the  hotel.  Then  she 
burst  into  uncontrollable  tears  of  helpless  disap- 
pointment and  nervous  reaction.  She  cried  so 
hard  and  so  long  that  when  the  men  finally  came 
up  with  the  news  that  the  bill  was  killed,  she  had 
no  more  tears  left,  and  received  the  news  apatheti- 
cally. 

■'They  voted  to  report  it  with  recommendation 
that  it  do  not  pass,  which  of  course  means  that 
it's  hopeless,"  said  Professor  Andrews. 

"Has  it  taken  them  all  this  time?"  said  Billy 
languidly.  "I  supposed  they  would  settle  it  in 
two  minutes  after  we  got  out." 

"Not  much,"  replied  the  professor;  "they 
jawed  over  it  another  hour  and  more,  and  they'd 
have  been  jawing  yet  if  they  hadn't  got  hungry." 

"How  did  the  vote  stand?" 

"Four  to  one." 

"A  good  return,"  said  Billy  idly;  "we  build  up 
a  great  organization,  get  thousands  of  people  in- 
terested, spend  money  out  of  our  poverty,  and 
work  like  slaves  all  winter,  and  get  one  vote." 

"But  you  did  get  one,"  said  Andrews;  "you  got 
it  yourself,  Billy;  you  did  it  with  your  little 
hatchet.  The  committee  was  unanimous  against 
the  bill  before  the  hearing  this  morning.  You  got 
Munson." 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE         1 69 

"Is  that  SO?"  said  Billy,  a  little  astonishment 
showing  in  her  face. 

*'Sure  it  is.  It  was  Munson  kept  them  arguing 
an  hour,  and  he  is  going  to  present  a  minority 
report  to  the  House." 

"But  that  won't  do  any  good." 

"It  won't  carry  the  bill  through,  certainly.  But 
it's  all  in  the  way  of  agitation,  education.  Mun- 
son's  going  to  work  up  a  great  speech  on  it.  He 
came  to  me  for  material,  and  he  wants  to  see 
you  and  have  a  long  talk  whenever  you're  willing. 
Don't  you  see  that  gets  the  whole  question  before 
the  legislature  and  threshes  it  out  in  public? 
That's  just  what  we  wanted,  and  I  never  expected 
any  such  luck.  I  expected  it  to  be  smothered  in 
committee." 

"You  did?"  cried  Billy,  amazed. 

"Yes,  at  least  I  knew  there  was  every  probabil- 
ity of  it." 

"Then  why  didn't  you  tell  me?" 

"Because  a  beginning  always  has  to  be  made," 
replied  the  professor.  "A  bill  like  this,  a  totally 
new  departure,  is  always  defeated  the  first  time 
it  is  presented.  There  was  no  use  in  taking  all 
hope  out  of  you  at  the  start.  It  was  too  valuable. 
And  not  one  stiver  of  work  you've  done  will  be 
lost.  It  will  all  tell  in  the  next  campaign.  We're 
going  to  bring  this  bill  right  back  here  next  win- 


ter." 


"What's  the  use?"  said  Billy,  dully.    "We  may 


170  CRAYON   CLUE 

work  and  toll  and  organize  and  educate,  and  get 
the  trades  unions  and  the  women's  clubs  and  then 
that  man  will  come  down  here  alone  and  be 
stronger  than  the  whole  of  us  put  together." 

"No,  he  wasn't,  Billy;  no,  he  wasn't,"  objected 
the  professor  earnestly;  "he  was  strong  because 
he  represented  the  whole  great  unstirred,  unedu- 
cated population  of  the  state.  Those  men  on  the 
committee  represented  it  too.  They  were  not 
merely  Indifferent  to  a  tenure  of  office  bill,  they 
never  even  heard  of  such  a  thing  till  we  got  after 
them  a  few  weeks  ago.  And  they  knew  that  their 
constituents  were  just  the  same.  We  made  a  big 
showing  there  this  morning  in  numbers,  but  those 
men  knew  that  we  and  a  few  hundreds,  or  at 
most  a  few  thousands,  of  persons  were  all  there 
were  In  the  state  that  even  knew  what  tenure  of 
office  meant.  The  rest  think  it's  some  kind  of  a 
cocktail.  And  you  got  one  of  those  five  men  on 
the  committee,  and  you  got  him  good.  You  got 
him  so  good  that  you've  taken  the  thing  onto  the 
floor  of  the  House.  I  tell  you,  Billy,  It's  a  good 
beginning." 

Interest  in  life  began  to  creep  into  Billy's  face 
once  more.  "But  I  can't  understand,"  she  said 
in  a  more  natural  tone ;  "the  paper  said  not  a  word 
against  It,  nobody  said  a  word  against  it." 

"They  didn't  need  to.  Nobody  paid  enough 
attention  to  It  to  say  anything  against  It.  It's  not 
a  question  of  the  day.    When  we  get  to  the  point 


BILLY   GOES   TO   THE    LEGISLATURE  17I 

where  there's  really  danger  of  its  going  through 
you'll  see  the  pack  turned  loose.  I  hope  that'll 
be  as  early  as  next  winter.  Cheer  up,  Billy,  the 
worst  is  yet  to  come." 

Billy  studied  him  and  then  raised  her  hands 
despairingly. 

*'But  it  may  take  years,"  she  said,  "and  it  may 
take  years  for  each  of  the  other  bills;  the  mini- 
mum salary  bill,  the  teachers'  council  bill,  to  get 
Dreiser  out  of  the  schools.  Why,  it's  the  work 
of  a  lifetime." 

**Billy,"  said  Professor  Andrews  earnestly, 
"that's  the  way  the  world  moves.  That's  the  way 
the  torch  of  freedom  is  passed  on,  from  hand  to 
hand  of  those  who  love  it;  kept  alive  in  the  darker 
ages,  flaming  a  little  higher  in  the  more  enlight- 
ened ones.  That's  all  we  can  do,  Billy,  for  our 
day  and  generation;  just  to  pass  on  that  torch." 

Once  more  the  tears  rose  to  Billy's  eyes,  but 
they  were  grateful  tears  this  time. 

"Oh,  Professor  Andrews!"  she  cried,  swaying 
toward  him.  "Oh,  Professor  Andrews!  you've 
put  me  right.  Professor;  you've  put  me  right." 

It  was  the  touch  of  idealism  that  Billy  always 
had  to  have.  She  could  not  work  with  sordid 
thoughts  and  sordid  motives.  Like  a  flash  she 
saw  herself  one  of  that  long  line,  passing  on  the 
light  that  never  failed,  from  the  days  of  the  horde 
upward.     The  figures  in  the  line  drop  out  un- 


172  CRAYON    CLUE 

known,  but  the  light  remains;  the  heritage  of  the 
race. 

Her  face  cleared  up,  the  old  Billy  came  back, 
a  lovely  breath  of  exaltation  touched  her  face. 

All  the  rest,  who  had  been  so  anxiously  watch- 
ing her,  looked  relieved. 

But  after  the  men  had  gone,  with  arrangements 
for  a  rendezvous  at  the  train,  she  turned  to  Mrs. 
Courtney  with  clenched  hands. 

*'Oh,  for  the  vote,  the  vote!"  said  she;  "to 
bring  those  grinning  apes  on  the  committee  to 
time." 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Courtney  seriously,  "you  see 
now  what  every  woman  does  who  has  tried  to  get 
bills  through.  I  was  brought  into  the  suffrage 
movement  by  that  bill  for  the  State  Industrial 
School  for  Wayward  Girls.  Those  miserable 
girls  are  sent  to  jail  over  and  over  again,  and 
every  time  they  come  out  worse  than  they  went  in. 
WeVe  been  trying  six  years  to  get  that  bill.  And 
last  winter,  just  after  they  turned  us  down,  they 
passed  a  bill  carrying  a  larger  appropriation  than 
we  asked  for  a  State  College  for  Veterinary  Sur- 
geons. The  horses  must  be  looked  after,  you 
know." 

"I'll  take  the  Bartown  Teachers*  Association 
into  the  suffrage  camp,"  said  Billy  promptly. 
Mrs.  Courtney  smiled  at  her. 

"YouVe  wonderfully  energetic,  all  of  a  sud- 
den." 


BILLY   GOES   TO  THE   LEGISLATURE         1 73 

"Yes,  isn't  Professor  Andrews  a  dear?"  said 
Billy  gravely;  "I  understand  why  his  teachers  and 
pupils  look  up  to  him  so.  He's  the  real  leader  of 
this  thing,  not  I." 

Mrs.  Courtney  shook  her  head. 

"No,  Billy,"  she  said,  "you're  the  leader.  You 
started  it.  The  professor  only  fell  in  line,  like 
the  rest  of  us,  after  you  started.  You  have  the 
qualities  of  a  leader.  You  can  inspire,  enthuse, 
move  to  action.  Professor  Andrews  is  not  a 
leader;  he  is  the  wise  counsellor,  as  Burleigh  was 
to  Elizabeth." 

Billy  stared. 

"Well,  I  declare,  Mrs.  Courtney,"  she  said, 
"you  are  giving  me  great  compliments." 

"You  are  a  remarkable  young  woman,"  replied 
the  other  simply.  "I  suppose  there  have  been 
many  remarkable  young  women  in  past  times, 
whose  talents  could  find  no  field  for  action.  The 
adoration  of  the  English  for  the  hereditary  prin- 
ciple in  monarchy  gave  Elizabeth  her  chance. 
The  superstition  of  the  French  soldiery  gave  Joan 
of  Arc  hers.  I  believe  civilization  has  about 
reached  the  plane  where  any  woman  who  has  the 
qualities  of  leadership  will  be  able  to  use  them. 
It  is  my  interest  in  you  as  a  possible  leader  of 
women,  as  much  as  my  interest  in  the  teachers' 
bill,  which  brought  me  into  this  campaign  of 
yours." 


CHAPTER   X 

In  Which  Billy  Meets  a  Real  Man 

THIS  was  all  very  nice,  but  nevertheless  it 
was  a  very  sober  young  leader  of  women 
who  sat  in  her  schoolroom  the  next  Monday  after- 
noon after  school. 

She  had  talked  with  Munson  half  the  way  to 
Bartown  on  the  train,  going  oyer  the  whole  sub- 
ject of  tenure  of  office,  and  incidentally  giving 
him  an  account  of  the  whole  state  of  affairs  in 
the  Bartown  schools. 

When  she  finally  got  rid  of  him,  McPike  must 
needs  slip  instantly  into  the  vacated  chair  and 
begin  to  murmur  soft  nothings  in  Irish  into  her 
ear.  McPike,  who  had  never  seen  Ireland,  nor 
his  parents  before  him,  had  talked  the  brogue  so 
much  as  a  joke  that  it  had  become  second  nature 
to  him.    The  Dooley  papers  were  his  Bible. 

"YeVe  a  darlin',  yeVe  a  daisy,  ye're  a  duck, 
Billy,"  he  said;  *'Glory  to  God,  how  ye  did  go 
after  Munson  wid  the  mother,  home  and  heaven 
stunt.  I  wisht  I  had  ye  down  in  me  ninth  ward 
to  help  in  the  primaries,  so  I  do.  Sure  I  c'u'd  use 
ye  in  my  business.     And  you  after  standin'  up 

174 


BILLY   MEETS   A  REAL  MAN  1 75 

there  like  a  rose  in  June,  like  a  little  princess  ye 
were,  in  yer  brown  velvet  and  golden  hair,  wid 

the  brown  eyes  of  ye " 

*'0h,  Denny,  shut  up,"  said  Billy  violently; 
"don^t  let  me  hear  any  rot  like  that  after  all 
Dreiser's  slops  about  pretty  girls  and  'beautiful 
young  womanhood.'  Shut  up  or  get  out,  or  I 
will." 

"Parlez  vous,  taisez  vous, 
Gosh,  the  deep  disgrace, 
If  Fd  'a'  knew  that  taisez  vous 
Was  French  for  close  yer  face" — 

crooned  Denny,  quoting  from  his  best  loved  poet. 
**Let  me  stay,  Billy.  FU  talk  politics  to  ye,  not 
love." 

And  so  he  did,  all  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Bar- 
town,  so  interestingly  that  Billy  could  not  help  lis- 
tening, though  she  was  worn  to  frazzles. 

She  had  talked  and  laughed  on,  under  high 
nervous  strain,  until  she  finally  stepped  out  of 
Mrs.  Courtney's  automobile  at  her  own  door. 
Then  she  got  to  bed  more  dead  than  alive.  The 
thing,  coming  on  top  of  the  winter's  work,  would 
have  landed  some  women  in  nervous  prostration. 
But  Billy  was  young  and  her  digestion  was  per- 
fect. The  juice  was  in  her  joints,  the  resiliency  in 
her  mind.  And  she  had  good  care  at  home.  She 
was  bathed  in  hot  water,  fed  with  bland  broths, 
tucked  away  under  soft,  warm  covers  with  hot- 
water  bags  at  her  feet,  and  there  she  slept  for 


176  CRAYON    CLUE 

twelve  hours,  with  the  cold  air  of  winter  pouring 
in  at  the  wide-open  windows. 

She  awoke  as  good  as  new,  did  it  all  over  again 
Sunday  night,  and  got  to  school  Monday  morn- 
ing fit  as  a  fiddle. 

But  despite  the  buoyancy  that  comes  from 
rested  nerves  and  the  approval  of  friends ;  despite 
that  glorious  flash  of  vision  which  Andrews,  with 
the  consummate  art  of  the  great  teacher,  had 
given  her,  it  was  a  very  sober  Billy  who  sat  at  her 
desk,  steadily  correcting  exercise  books. 

The  fight  had  changed  its  aspect.  It  stretched 
ahead  long,  indefinite,  uncertain.  It's  always  a 
blue  Monday  when  youth  sees  the  long  road  for 
the  first  time.  She  had  failed  in  the  two  things 
she  had  set  out  to  do  that  winter;  securing  the  aid 
of  the  papers,  and  passing  the  bill.  It  was  true, 
that  in  accomplishing  these  two  failures  she  had 
stirred  up  a  body  of  sentiment  and  sympathizers 
that  had  not  existed  before,  and  was  increasing  all 
the  time.  It  must  amount  to  something  in  time. 
But  the  whole  thing  had  grown  nebulous,  indefi- 
nite. She  had  no  longer  a  specific  thing  in  view 
which  she  believed  she  could  accomplish.  It  was 
harder  getting  her  third  wind  than  it  had  been 
getting  her  second. 

As  Billy  sat  intently  correcting  exercise  books 
with  one-half  her  mind  and  conning  affairs  of 
state  with  the  other,  she  heard  an  apologetic 
cough  behind  her.     She  glanced  around  and  be- 


BILLY  MEETS   A  REAL   MAN  1 77 

held  a  rather  amazing  figure  standing  on  her 
threshold.  After  school  visitors  were  not  un- 
common, but  they  were  not  often  young  men,  and 
such  very  well-set-up  young  men. 

"Miss  Pennington?"  he  said,  and  then  held  out 
to  her  a  sheaf  of  typewritten  sheets. 

"Our  city  editor,"  he  said,  "told  me  to  drop 
around  and  ask  you  about  this.  It  looked  to  him 
as  If  there  might  be  a  story  In  it.  I'm  from  the 
Forumy 

Miss  Pennington  looked  unconvinced. 

"Have  you  changed  city  editors  lately?"  said 
she  dryly. 

"No,  why?" 

"Oh,  nothing.  I  thought  there  was  a  story  in 
that  stuff  once  myself.    But  you  won't  use  It." 

"Who  said  so  ?"  queried  the  young  man. 

"I  have  begged  and  pleaded  with  every  paper 
in  town,"  said  she,  "yours  among  the  number, 
and  not  one  of  them  will  touch  It." 

The  youth  looked  a  trifle  disconcerted. 

"He's  changed  his  mind  since  you  were  there," 
he  urged. 

"I  don't  see  why  he  should,"  replied  the  lady, 
with  an  ungratlfying  lack  of  confidence. 

"See  here,  why  are  you  so  hard  upon  me?" 
asked  the  young  man. 

He  asked  it  winnlngly,  convincingly,  somehow. 
Billy  deliberately  looked  him  over.  He  was  a 
very  good-looking  young  man.     Blue-eyed  bru- 


178  CRAYON   CLUE 

nette  was  his  style  of  beauty.  His  thick,  close- 
cropped  hair  was  very  dark,  though  not  quite 
black.  His  skin  was  a  richer  brown  than  the 
Sassenach  usually  attains.  His  head  was  well- 
shaped,  his  figure  straight,  springy  and  athletic, 
his  features  regular  and  clear  cut,  and  out  of  that 
smooth-shaven  brown  cameo  face  shone  as  nice 
a  pair  of  blue  eyes,  Billy  thought,  as  she  had  ever 
seen.  Large  they  were,  and  dark,  with  long 
black  lashes,  which  curled  at  the  ends. 

"It's  a  pity  you're  in  such  a  disreputable  busi- 
ness," she  said,  when  she  had  inspected  him. 

"Oh,  come  now,"  said  he;  "why  are  you  so 
hard  on  us?" 

"My  experience  with  the  newspapers  has  not 
been  very  happy,"  she  replied  unsmilingly.  "I 
went  on  my  knees  to  them  to  use  that  story  there; 
a  big  story  it  was,  one  that  would  have  helped 
thousands  of  suffering  women  and  children.  They 
wouldn't  touch  it,  and  then,  when  we  tried  to  help 
ourselves,  in  the  only  way  we  knew  how,  they 
turned  around  and  had  fun  with  us  for  weeks 
on  end." 

"Well,  see  here,"  said  the  young  man,  after 
a  moment's  hesitation.  "I  don't  want  to  sound 
conceited,  but  I've  got  quite  a  lot  of  influence  with 
our  city  editor.  If  this  story  pans  out  as  good  as 
it  looks  to  me  from  this  letter  of  yours,  I  can 
pledge  you  definitely  that  it  will  be  published." 

Billy's  fingers  were  busy  automatically  drawing 


BILLY  MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  1 79 

little  figures  on  a  sheet  of  blank  papers ;  pictures 
of  chalk  boxes  they  were,  as  one  could  see  by  close 
inspection.  She  scrutinized  the  young  man  again. 
Then  her  face  cleared,  and  a  true,  Billyesque  smile 
irradiated  it. 

''You  wouldn't  come  here  and  get  me  to  talk  so 
as  to  go  away  and  make  fun  of  me,  would  you?" 
said  she  appealingly. 

"No,  you  bet  I  wouldn't,''  said  the  young  man. 

"Very  well  then,  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know.  They 
won't  publish  a  word  of  it,  but  as  long  as  you 
aren't  going  to  roast  me  I  suppose  I  may  as  well 
spend  my  time  educating  you  as  anybody." 

"That's  right,"  said  the  young  man  heartily. 

Miss  Pennington,  ceasing  her  artistic  labors, 
and  applying  her  right  hand  to  the  assistance  of 
her  left  in  the  support  of  her  chin,  gazed  out  over 
this  penthouse  at  the  strange  young  man.  ' 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Forum,  go  and  write  some- 
thing on  that  board,"  said  she. 

The  youth  went,  just  as  if  he  were  still  in 
school.  He  picked  up  a  piece  of  chalk  and  made 
a  picture  of  a  chalk  box. 

"Now,  rub  it  out." 

He  applied  the  eraser  with  all  the  vigor  of  an 
unusually  manly  arm. 

"By  George!"  said  he. 

"Isn't  that  nice?"  said  Miss  Pennington.  "Isn't 
that  a  comfortable  way  to  teach  school?  Stand 
three  feet  away  and  you  can't  see  the  white  marks 


l80  CRAYON   CLUE 

on  the  board,  though  applied  with  all  the  strength 
of  your  wrist.  We  are  practically  deprived  of 
the  use  of  the  blackboard,  one  of  the  necessities 
of  class  teaching  throughout  the  history  of 
schools." 

The  man  from  the  Forum  sat  down  on  top  of 
a  desk  and  took  out  a  little  notebook. 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  said  he. 

"I  can  tell  you,"  said  Miss  Pennington,  *'but 
it's  a  long  story,  and  you  can't  understand  the 
chalk  without  knowing  what  went  before.  Do 
you  want  It  all?" 

"All,"  said  the  Forum  man. 

"Well,  then,  look  at  that  row  of  seats,"  said 
Billy,  with  a  sort  of  controlled  violence,  indicat- 
ing the  historic  dark  row. 

Then  she  told  him,  more  briefly,  the  story 
which  has  been  told  in  this  book. 

"The  Bartown  schools  aren't  being  run  by  edu- 
cators," she  concluded.  "They're  run  by  busi- 
ness men.  A  business  man  sees  no  sense  in  main- 
taining an  extra  room  in  a  building  when  all  the 
children  can  be  seated  in  the  other  rooms.  The 
teacher  knows  that  it  is  ruining  the  process  of 
education,  but  the  business  man  takes  no  account 
of  that.  There  are  twenty-five  thousand  more 
children  of  school  age  in  Bartown  to-day  than 
there  were  three  years  ago,  and  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  fewer  schoolrooms.  They  began  with 
seventy-nine   in   a   bunch,   they've   gradually   in- 


BILLY  MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  l8l 

creased  it  to  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  during 
the  winter,  and  this  right  while  our  fight  against 
them  was  going  on.  I  don't  know  where  It's  going 
to  stop.  It's  not  only  the  apartment  houses  that 
don't  want  children.  The  schools  don't  want  them 
either." 

Miss  Pennington  stopped  a  moment  for  breath, 
and  then  went  on. 

"It's  the  department  store  system  of  educa- 
tion," she  said.  "Wherever  a  child  can  be 
crowded  In,  crowd  him  In.  Wherever  a  room  can 
be  closed,  shut  It  up.  Wherever  five  dollars  can 
be  chopped  off  a  teacher's  wages,  chop  it  off.  And 
the  man  at  the  top  hired  to  do  all  this  cutting  and 
grinding,  paid  higher  and  higher  wages,  depart- 
ment-store style.  While  the  grade  teachers  are 
getting  twenty-five  dollars  a  year  less  than  they 
were  three  years  ago,  in  face  of  the  Increased  cost 
of  living,  the  superintendent's  salary  has  risen 
from  seven  thousand  to  nine  thousand  dollars  a 
year,  two  thousand  more  than  Dr.  Haswell  ever 
got." 

"You  can  let  us  see  these  documentary  proofs?" 

"I" — somewhat  wearily — "told  the  managing 
editor  of  the  Forum  long  ago  that  I  would  do 
that  whenever  he  was  ready  to  publish." 

"And  this  Perkins  girl,  would  she  testify  in 
court  if  it  came  to  that?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Billy,  "and  so  would  Manders, 
Dr.  Haswell's  old  secretary.    You  could  get  a  lot 


1 82  CRAYON   CLUE 

more  from  him.  I've  never  had  time  to  go  and 
see  him.    He's  got  no  job  to  lose  now." 

The  young  man  studied  her  concernedly. 

"Fm  afraid  you'll  lose  yours,"  he  said. 

"That  doesn't  matter,"  said  Billy  simply;  "I've 
talked  with  Ethel." 

The  man  looked  slightly  bewildered. 

"Talked  with  Ethel?" 

"Yes ;  Ethel's  my  sister,  you  know.  The  trouble 
with  poor  people  in  losing  a  job  is  not  so  much 
the  fear  that  they  won't  get  another,  sometime, 
as  for  some  one  to  carry  them  while  they're  get- 
ting it.  But  I've  talked  with  Ethel  and  she  told 
me  to  go  ahead,  and  she'd  carry  me  while  I  was 
hunting  another  place." 

The  young  man  surveyed  his  hostess  very 
studiously  indeed. 

"It  isn't  a  pleasant  thing  to  be  fired,  even  if  you 
can  get  another  position,'*  said  he. 

Billy  laughed. 

"Oh,  well,  you  can't  lose  my  job  anyway,"  said 
she;  "I've  tried,  but  it  sticks  closer  than  fly  paper. 
I've  done  everything  I  could  think  of  to  get  fired, 
but  they  won't  fire  me.  Guess  they'll  have  to, 
though,  after  next  Saturday  night." 

"Why  after  Saturday?" 

"Because,"  said  Miss  Pennington,  "I've  de- 
cided to  go  on  the  stump." 

She  looked  at  him  triumphantly. 

"It  doesn't  make  any  difference  whether  you 


BILLY  MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  1 83 

publish  this  story  or  not,"  she  said;  "the  people 
are  going  to  know  It,  because  I'm  going  to  tell 
them.  The  executive  committee  of  this  new  Citi- 
zens Party  that's  going  to  run  a  city  ticket  this 
spring  has  promised  me  that  their  meetings  shall 
be  open  to  me.  My  opening  speech  Is  next  Satur- 
day night  at  West  Turner  Hall." 

The  Forum  man  knew  West  Turner  Hall.  It 
was  not  a  hall  where  he  would  have  Imagined  any 
woman  speaking  In  public.  He  looked  at  her 
gravely. 

"What  has  caused  you  to  decide  so  firmly?"  he 
said. 

"That  chalk,"  said  Miss  Pennington,  flinging 
her  hand  with  a  gesture  of  repulsion  toward  the 
helpless  crayons  with  all  their  grease  upon  them. 

"They  cut  down  my  salary  and  Increased  my 
work.  They've  robbed  the  children  right  and 
left.  They  are  destroying  the  efiiclency  of  the 
schools.  But  still  I  could  forget  It  all  when  I 
got  into  the  schoolroom  and  got  to  teaching,  be- 
cause I  wasn't  responsible  for  It.  My  business 
was  simply  to  teach  as  well  as  I  could.  But  now 
they've  come  Into  my  schoolroom  and  taken  away 
my  tools  so  I  can't  even  teach." 

The  girl's  face  became  convulsed  with  anger. 
Then  and  ever  after  the  chalk  enraged  her  more 
than  any  other  feature  of  the  entire  business ;  the 
explosive  rage  of  the  workman  required  to  work 
with  broken  tools. 


18^4  CRAYON    CLUE 

"These  people  had  my  mouth  closed  and 
gagged  with  the  rest,"  said  she,  "because  they 
controlled  my  job.  But  the  gag  is  out.  No  one 
else  would  take  up  the  matter.    I  had  to.** 

A  pathetic  note  in  her  voice  struck  the  man. 
He  looked  at  her  concernedly,  and  then  used  the 
very  words  she  had  used  to  Delia  Perkins  once 
upon  a  time. 

"You  haven't  many  illusions  left,  have  you?" 
said  he. 

"Not  many,"  said  she,  "and  by  that  same  token 
I  don't  understand  the  Forum's  sudden  change  of 
heart.    That  strikes  me  as  an  illusion." 

She  watched  him  narrowly,  but  he  seemed  to 
be  thinking  deeply. 

"Why  is  the  Forum  going  to  take  up  this  fight 
after  all?"  she  insisted,  still  manifestly  unbeliev- 
ing. 

"Because  I'm  a  fool,  I  suppose,"  replied  the 
man  absentmindedly. 

Miss  Pennington  stared,  as  she  was  certainly 
justified  in  doing.  The  man  came  to  himself  with 
a  start,  and  a  slightly  uncomfortable  look  invaded 
his  face.  Miss  Pennington  continued  to  stare  un- 
til a  sudden  light  broke  over  her  countenance. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  are  Conover,  do 
you?"  she  exclaimed  in  great  astonishment. 

"That's  right,"  said  the  man,  in  a  tone  as  if  he 
had  been  caught  stealing  sheep.  "I  said  I  was 
a  fool,  but  I  didn't  realize  I  was  demonstrating. 


BILLY   MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  1 85 

I  never  gave  myself  dead  away  before,  but  your 
story  made  me  think  so  hard.  You  showed  me 
up  for  a  little  bigger  thief  even  than  I  supposed 
I  was,  and  I  was  thinking  what  I  would  have  to  do 
about  it." 

"I  showed  you  up  for  a  thief,"  cried  Billy  Pen 
in  wild  amaze.  "Will  you  tell  me  what  you  mean  ?" 

Conover  rose  and  began  to  walk  about  the 
room  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  with  an  ab- 
sent look  upon  his  face,  talking  in  a  rambling 
way,  with  many  pauses  between  sentences  while 
his  mind  evidently  trailed  off  into  lines  of  thought 
beyond  his  words. 

"YouVe  told  me  a  queer  story,"  he  said;  "I 
can  tell  you  a  queerer  one.  YouVe  found  a  graft 
on  chalk  and  drawing  books.  I  can  tell  you  a 
bigger  one.  YouVe  been  studying  the  school  sys- 
tem for  years  from  the  inside.  I  never  stepped 
inside  a  public  school  in  Bartown  till  today,  and 
yet  I  can  tell  things  about  the  system  you  don't 
know." 

He  walked  about.  Miss  Pennington  had  re- 
lapsed into  her  favorite  attitude ;  her  little  round 
chin  in  her  two  white  hands. 

"I  shall  have  to  begin  with  myself,"  he  said. 

"I  take  it  that  you  know  that  when  I  left  col- 
lege I  went  on  my  grandfather's  paper  as  a  cub 
reporter.  Various  other  publications  of  the  coun- 
try, of  the  kind  that  feature  the  brand  of  shoe- 
strings and  collar  studs  that  millionaires  wear. 


1 86  CRAYON   CLUE 

wouldn't  let  anybody  remain  in  ignorance  of  the 
fact.  I  remember  one  Sunday  paper  especially, 
that  wrote  me  up  as  the  'Model  Millionaire,  the 
Pattern  for  All  Poor  Boys.'  It  told  of  the  ex- 
hausting hours  of  toil  I  put  in,  when  I  might  have 
been  enjoying  myself.  How  I  worked  just  like  a 
common  reporter,  for  fifteen  dollars  a  week. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact  the  fifteen  didn't  pay  for 
my  cigars.  I  was  paying  six  hundred  dollars  a 
week  for  three  rooms  at  the  Richmond  at  the 
time." 

"Is  It  true  you  are  a  Socialist?"  asked  Billy 
curiously. 

"Oh,  no,  certainly  not,  not  at  all,"  said  Con- 
over.  "I  merely  seem  to  get  the  same  satisfac- 
tion out  of  running  a  newspaper  that  some  other 
fellows  do  out  of  running  a  yacht.  I  suppose  I'm 
too  near  the  shirt  sleeves  to  be  real  quality.  My 
grandfather  was  a  poor  boy  who  became  a  great 
editor.  He  began  at  the  printer's  case,  and  for 
forty  years  he  moulded  public  opinion  In  this 
country.  You  know  my  parents  died  when  I  was 
young,  and  my  grandfather  brought  me  up.  He 
lived  and  moved  and  had  his  being  in  that  paper. 
I  grew  up  thinking  my  grandfather  was  the  great- 
est man  on  earth,  and  the  Bartown  Daily  Forum 
the  greatest  Institution. 

"I  was  editor  of  the  leading  paper  at  my  col- 
lege, and  when  I  came  out  I  went  on  the  Forum 
staff  because  I  wanted  to  learn  the  business.     I 


BILLY  MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  1 87 

liked  the  Forum  not  merely  because  It  made 
money  for  me,  but  for  itself.  The  inside  of  the 
office  has  had  a  fascination  for  me  ever  since  I 
used  to  go  down  there  as  a  little  kid  with  my 
grandfather,  and  watch  the  big  presses,  and  steal 
around  softly  in  the  •  city  room,  watching  all  the 
men  at  work  at  their  typewriters,  with  the  green 
shades  over  their  eyes. 

*'I  wanted  to  learn  the  business  because  I  liked 
it;  and  I  did  learn  It  until  the  papers  which  es- 
tablish confidential  relations  with  the  butlers  and 
housemaids  of  the  predatory  rich  got  onto  me. 
After  that  people  were  always  recognizing  me 
when  I  went  around  about  my  work,  and  making 
silly  asses  of  themselves.  I  wanted  to  make  a 
star  reporter,"  said  he  regretfully,  "but  I  never 
shall.  It  was  too  much  like  a  personal  publicity 
department.  I  don't  like  to  work  the  limelight 
and  stand  In  It  too. 

''Well,  when  the  Boxer  racket  came  along,  I 
went  out  to  China  as  war  correspondent  for  the 
Forum.  And  since  I  came  home  I've  been  staying 
quietly  In  the  telegraph  room,  learning  to  edit 
telegraph,  and  occasionally  trying  my  hand  at  an 
editorial  on  some  subject  that  I  think  I  know 
something  about.  I  mean  to  work  into  it  until  I 
actually  run  the  Forum.  At  present  I  own  it — 
my  grandfather  died  three  years  ago,  you  know — 
but  I  don't  run  It."    He  smiled. 

"That  was  made  particularly  clear  to  me  yes- 


1 88  CRAYON   CLUE 

terday,"  said  he.  "I  keep  a  private  office  In  the 
Forum  building,  and  I  have  left  strict  orders  that 
every  letter,  every  communication,  signed  or  un- 
signed, addressed  to  the  Forum  by  its  readers, 
should  be  left  on  that  desk;  I  mean  those  that 
don't  get  published,  of  course.  I  like  to  look  them 
over  and  get  a  notion  what  people  are  thinking 
of.  Occasionally  I  take  one  and  go  out  myself 
and  get  a  story  on  It.  I  like  to  do  that  once  In 
a  while.  I  like  to  see  how  people  treat  me  when 
they  don't  know  I'm  my  grandfather's  grandson. 
It  keeps  down  my  conceit. 

"It  was  this  way  I  came  across  your  letter  about 
the  chalk.  Of  course  It  came  in  long  ago,  but 
some  way  it  got  pigeon-holed  with  some  other 
typewritten  matter,  and  I  ran  onto  it  by  accident. 
It  looked  to  me  as  though  there  were  a  good 
newspaper  story  In  it,  and  I  took  it  to  our  city 
editor  and  put  It  up  to  him.  I  innocently  sup- 
posed that  my  childish  eye  had  detected  a  sensa- 
tion which  his  eagle  orb  had  missed.  He  smiled 
in  a  peculiar  way,  and  referred  me  to  the  Old 
Man.  Some  way  his  smile  Irritated  me,  and  so 
did  the  Old  Man's,  when  I  spoke  to  him  about  it." 

He  ruminated. 

"The  Old  Man  ran  the  paper  in  my  grand- 
father's time,"  he  confided,  "and  I  can't  get  along 
without  him,  because  he  knows  how  to  run  the 
paper  and  I  don't." 

"That  must  be  the  Marquis,"  said  Billy. 


BILLY  MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  1 89 

"What?  Oh,  well,  that's  a  real  ladylike  name 
for  him.  I'll  tell  him  that.  Well,  he  invited  me 
to  sit  down  and  we  had  a  long  confab,  in  the 
course  of  which  he  told  me  why  the  Forum 
couldn't  print  your  little  letter." 

He  grinned  cheerfully. 

"Did  you  know,"  said  he,  "that  when  this  town 
was  a  little  townlet,  one  square  mile  of  land  was 
set  aside  in  trust  for  the  school  children  of  Bar- 
town,  the  School  Board  to  be  the  trustees? 

"The  town  was  down  beside  the  Bar  then,  the 
Bar  that  gave  the  name  to  the  town;  the  sand- 
bar that  the  first  settlers  used  to  ford  the  river 
on.  But  it  grew  this  way,  and  with  the  passage 
of  time  that  has  become  one  of  the  most  valuable 
square  miles  on  the  surface  of  the  globe,  for  to- 
day it  lies  in  the  heart  of  the  business  section  of 
Bartown. 

"Most  of  that  square  mile  was  sold  years  ago, 
before  its  prospective  value  was  realized.  The 
old-timers  thought  they  were  doing  well  for  the 
children  when  they  sold  that  wood  and  farm  land 
at  residence  lot  prices.  But  there  are  still  some 
pieces  left  which  are  among  the  most  valuable 
city  lots  on  earth. 

"All  these  parcels  are  now  leased  on  long-term 
leases.  That  land  pays  no  taxes,  the  law  contem- 
plating that  the  rent  shall  be  that  much  higher 
for  the  benefit  of  the  schools.  One  of  those 
pieces  lies  at  the  southeast  corner  of  Walnut  and 


190  CRAYON   CLUE 

M  Streets.  It  Is  79  x  120  feet  in  dimensions,  and 
pays  $12,000  a  year  rental,  and  no  taxes.  Di- 
rectly opposite,  on  the  northeast  corner,  there  is 
a  piece  of  ground  50  x  92^  feet,  but  little  more 
than  half  as  large,  which  rents  for  $26,900  a 
year,  and  pays  $3,000  a  year  taxes,  making  an 
annual  cost  of  $30,000  for  the  ground  rent 
alone." 

He  stopped,  and  intently  surveyed  his  com- 
panion. Many  and  varied  emotions  were  chas- 
ing each  other  over  that  lady's  speaking  face.  She 
was  a  schoolma'am;  she  was  doing  arithmetic 
sums  in  her  head. 

"The    southeast   corner    of    Walnut    and    M 

streets "   said  she  slowly,   "why — that's  the 

Forum  office." 

"Yes,"  said  Conover,  grinning,  "isn't  that  nice? 
As  you  said  about  the  chalk?  I  figured  it  out, 
and  as  near  as  I  can  make  It  my  paper  has  been 
stealing  about  $18,000  a  year  from  the  children 
of  Bartown  for  the  last  twelve  years." 

"But  the  Forum,  the  Forum F'  said  Miss  Pen- 
nington dazedly;  "the  Forum  was  always  so  much 
interested  In  the  schools.  It  discussed  the  most 
abstruse  educational  and  pedadoglcal  problems. 
It  established  prizes,  gave  medals  for  patriotic 
essays "  she  trailed  off  into  silence. 

"Ye-es,"  drawled  Conover,  "those  medals  cost 
$10  apiece.  The  Forum  could  afford  to  give 
quite  a  lot  of  them.    Always  rather  concerned,  in 


BILLY  MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  I9I 

the  heavy  editorial  style,  about  the  teachers'  du- 
ties, too,  wasn't  It?  Inclined  to  think  the  teach- 
ers should  approach  their  noble  task  In  a  mission- 
ary spirit.     What?" 

^Tes,"  said  Billy,  '*It  was." 

"YouVe  cost  me  just  $54,000  since  I  came  into 
this  room,"  said  he,  coming  to  a  halt  and  scowling 
thoughtfully  down  upon  her. 

"I  wasn't  sure  what  I  was  going  to  do  till  I 
came  and  heard  what  you  had  to  say.  Since  I've* 
heard  It  I've  decided  I  can't  steal  from  children 
any  longer.  I  think  I  could  from  a  man  all  right, 
and  even  from  a  woman.  If  she  were  real  Impu- 
dent and  sassy" — his  eye  twinkled — ''but  this  is 
too  much  like  taking  candy  away  from  a  baby. 
My  check  for  $54,000  goes  to  the  Board  of  Edu- 
cation tonight." 

"Fifty-four  thousand,"  repeated  Miss  Pen- 
nington, still  dazedly.  ''It's  a  good  deal  of 
money." 

"The  only  question  is  if  it's  enough,"  said  Con- 
over.  "Of  course  this  thing  has  been  going  on 
for  years.  But  it's  a  natural  Instinct  of  the  hu- 
man heart  to  wish  to  salve  its  conscience  as  easily 
as  possible.  And  I  don't  really  know  whether  a 
man  is  called  upon  to  pay  his  grandfather's  debts 
or  not,  and  my  respected  ancestor's  estate  went  to 
a  lot  of  heirs.  I  know  I  couldn't  make  'em  all 
cough  up,  and  I  don't  know  why  I  should  do  it 
all.    Anyway,  I've  decided  to  pay  up  for  the  three 


192  CRAYON   CLUE 

years  IVe  owned  the  paper,  and  then — Fm  free 
to  go  into  the  fight." 

He  said  the  words  with  such  concentrated  en- 
ergy that  Billy  looked  up  startled. 

*'Do  you  think  that's  all?"  said  he,  answering 
her  look. 

"Do  you  think  the  Forum^s  the  only  big  thief? 
There's  not  a  daily  paper  in  Bartown  that's  not 
in  on  the  graft.  Four  of  them  have  offices  on 
^school  lands,  and  every  one  is  leasing  at  as  much 
under  market  price  as  the  Forum.  As  for  the 
rest,  some  man  connected  with  each  one  holds  a 
similar  lease.  Now,  do  you  see  a  light,  Miss  Wil- 
helmina  Derwent  Pennington?  Now,  do  you  un- 
derstand why  none  of  them  would  print  your  let- 
ter, Miss  Innocent  Schoolma'am?  Why  no  word 
of  criticism  of  the  schools  ever  appears  in  the 
papers  ?  Why  your  city  superintendent  and  your 
district  superintendent  and  your  committee  on  sup- 
plies and  all  the  rest  of  the  chalk  and  slate  pencil 
thieves  are  let  alone  in  their  graft?  Why  the 
Columbian  Book  Company  is  allowed  to  take  a 
hand  in  the  appointment  of  the  Bartown  Board 
of  Education,  and  can  come  in  here  and  dictate 
the  selection  of  a  city  superintendent?  Oh,  the 
Old  Man  put  me  wise  all  right." 

"And  he  sat  there  and  smiled  and  smiled," 
murmured  Billy,  lost  in  recollection. 

"The  people  can't  know  anything  about  these 
things  unless  the  papers  tell  them,"  observed  Mr. 


BILLY  MEETS   A   REAL  MAN  1 93 

Conover,  still  prowling  about.  "And  the  news- 
papers would  tell  them  unless  they  were  let  in 
somewhere.  I  suppose  one  of  them  got  in  years 
ago,  and  the  rest  saw  how  good  it  was,  and  edged 
in  until  they  were  all  on  school  land. 

"Of  course  there  are  more  than  a  hundred 
other  papers  published  in  the  city,  but  none  of 
them  appeals  to  the  general  public.  They're  all 
little  class  papers,  or  trade  papers,  or  papers 
printed  in  a  foreign  language.  Such  sheets  never 
take  up  a  big  thing  like  this.  It  takes  the  power 
and  money  of  a  big  daily  to  dare  touch  it.  And 
probably  not  one  of  them  ever  heard  of  the  graft. 
I  never  heard  of  it  till  yesterday.  You  never 
heard  of  it,  and  you  think  you  know  quite  a  lot 
about  schools." 

He  smiled  down  at  her. 

"Within  the  last  nine  years,"  said  he,  "every 
one  of  these  enterprising  dailies  has  gone  before 
the  School  Board  and  got  the  revaluation  clause 
struck  out  of  its  lease.  Think  of  that.  A  ninety- 
nine  year  lease  in  a  city  of  the  enormous  growth 
of  Bartown,  and  no  revaluation  clause.  Why, 
one  man  that  got  his  revaluation  clause  struck 
out  sold  his  lease  the  very  next  day  for  $225,000. 
Think  of  that;  the  striking  out  of  one  paragraph 
worth  $225,000;  $225,000  that  belonged  to  the 
school  children  of  Bartown;  and  the  teachers  get- 
ting $25  a  year  less  for  the  sake  of  economy. 


194  CRAYON   CLUE 

Why,   that   $25   would  buy   you   a  new  dress, 
wouldn't  it?'* 

*Tes,"  said  Billy,  "it  would." 

He  lit  a  cigarette,  gesticulated  with  it,  and 
threw  it  away,  quite  unconscious  of  what  he  was 
about. 

^'Stealing  the  clothes  off  the  teachers'  backs," 
said  he,  *'and  shoving  all  this  extra  work  on 
them.  All  the  teacher's  got  in  the  world  are  her 
clothes  and  her  working  power,  and  they'll  rob 
her  of  both,  and  then  hand  out  $225,000  un- 
earned increment  to  this  grafter,  just  because  he's 
got  the  power  to  expose  their  own  graft.  I've 
totalled  it  up  roughly,  and  I  make  out  that  in  the 
past  nine  years  alone  the  schools  have  lost  more 
than  $15,000,000  in  the  cancellation  of  old  leases, 
and  the  giving  of  new  straight  leases  without  re- 
valuation clauses,  to  various  solid  men,  leading 
citizens,  pillars  of  society  in  Bartown." 

His  offhand  laughing  manner  had  changed  to 
one  of  electric  wrath.  He  struck  his  clenched 
fist  on  her  desk. 

"Do  you  suppose  I'm  going  to  turn  my  fifty- 
four  thousand  over  to  the  rest  of  these  smug 
thieves?"  said  he.  "No;  by  heaven,  if  I  pay, 
they  shall  pay  too." 

'  A  blood-swollen  vein  stood  out  straight  across 
his  forehead.  They  looked  silently  into  each 
other's  eyes,  and  silently  shook  hands.  That  clasp 


BILLY   MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  1 95 

was  a  pledge  of  two  comrades,  going  to  war  to- 
gether. 

It  was  the  man  who  let  the  moment's  high  ten- 
sion down. 

"A  representative  of  the  great  moral  and  re- 
ligious daily  of  Bartown  will  have  the  honor  of 
reporting  your  speech  next  Saturday  night,  Miss 
Wilhelmina  Derwent  Pennington,'*  said  he. 

She  was  still  thoughtful. 

"How  is  it,"  said  she  slowly,  "that  you  are  so 
different  from  your  grandfather?" 

"Change  in  the  times  I  guess,"  said  he;  "so- 
cial conscience  is  different  nowadays.  And  then 
I  guess  it  was  never  brought  home  to  the  old  gen- 
tleman. He  never  saw  the  human  and  personal 
aspect  of  it,  as  you  made  me  see  it.  And  then, 
too,  we  must  remember  that  the  newspaper  graft 
in  those  days  didn't  really  create  any  oppression 
in  the  schools.  It  merely  deprived  the  schools  of 
added  advantages  which  they  ought  to  have  had. 
But  they  got  along  fairly  well  with  Haswell  look- 
ing out  for  them." 

"And  Dr.  Haswell  never  knew  about  this?" 

"The  Old  Man  thinks  he  got  onto  it  a  few 
years  before  he  died,  and  that  was  when  they 
tried  to  get  him  out.  The  graft  in  the  School 
Board  itself  was  in  the  buildings,  their  erection 
and  maintenance.  Bartown  has  put  millions  into 
school  buildings  in  the  last  twenty-five  years,  and 
part  of  each  million  stuck  to  hands  on  the  School 


196  CRAYON   CLUE 

Board.  That's  the  reason  that  positions  on  the 
School  Board  were  regular  political  awards  by 
the  mayor.  All  the  janitor  jobs  and  scrubwomen 
appointments  are  political,  too.  And  It  used  to 
be,  years  ago,  that  every  teacher's  appointment 
was  a  political  reward  given  to  some  male  rela- 
tive of  hers.     But  Haswell  stopped  that." 

*'Dr.  Haswell  was  a  perfectly  honest  man,"  he 
continued,  after  a  moment's  thought.  "He  lived 
inside  his  little  old  seven  thousand  all  his  life. 
He  raised  several  children  and  gave  them  each  a 
splendid  education,  but  he  didn't  leave  them  any- 
thing. The  Old  Man  thinks  that  he  wanted  to 
expose  this  graft  when  he  got  onto  It,  but  they 
threatened  him,  and  he  was  an  old  man,  and  they 
let  him  alone  in  his  department,  and  so  he 
dropped  it.  But  the  Old  Man  thinks  It  kind  of 
took  the  heart  out  of  him  the  last  years  of  his 
life." 

"That's  true,"  exclaimed  Billy;  "we  all  noticed 
it.    He  wasn't  nearly  as  cheerful  as  he  had  been." 

She  rose  and  began  to  prowl  In  her  turn. 

"How  much  you  have  told  me,  about  things 
that  I  have  been  connected  with  all  my  life,"  said 
she ;  "how  strange  it  is  that  we  should  have  been 
brought  together  in  this  way." 

"Nothing  strange  about  it,"  said  Conover, 
smiling  genially;  "when  a  person  goes  out  scout- 
ing for  trouble  as  you  did  they're  apt  to  find  it. 
This  thing  is  a  good  deal  bigger  than  it  was 


BILLY  MEETS   A   REAL   MAN  1 97 

twenty-four  hours  ago,  Miss  Pennington.  It  looks 
to  me  as  if  we  would  shake  the  city  of  Bartown 
before  we  get  through  with  it.  It  would  be  funny 
if  you  and  I  did  that,  wouldn't  it?" 

He  was  smiling  down  at  her  with  a  wonder- 
fully pleasant  look  in  his  blue  eyes;  and  as  for 
Billy,  as  she  looked  at  this  big,  elegant,  splendid 
new  convert  of  hers,  she  felt  like  giving  him  what 
she  had  given  her  first  disciple,  Delia  Perkins, 
after  that  honest  young  woman  had  gone  on  a 
thieving  expedition  for  her. 


CHAPTER   XI 
In  Which  Billy  Goes  on  the  Stump 

THE  people  of  Bartown  never  forgot  the  story 
that  came  out  on  the  first  page  of  the  Forum 
the  next  Sunday  morning;  a  story  illustrated  with 
flashlight  photographs  of  the  blackboards  in  the 
Bartown  schools,  and  the  crowded  classes  in  ses- 
sion, with  children  sitting  on  the  floor  and  on 
boards  placed  across  the  aisles  from  seat  to  seat 
in  some  rooms,  and  with  sinful  caricatures  of  the 
"smug  thieves." 

They  never,  to  their  dying  day,  forgot  their 
astonishment  when  the  Forum,  the  great,  the 
wise,  the  stately,  the  solemnly  asinine,  the  adviser 
of  thrones,  principalities  and  powers,  the  apotheo- 
sis of  those  who  take  themselves  seriously,  the 
defender  and  apologist  of  things  as  they  are,  the 
exponent  of  blind  patriotism,  the  mouthpiece  of 
blatant  jingoism,  the  sheet  which  for  forty  years 
had  devoted  itself  to  proving  that  whatever  is  is 
right,  came  out  with  an  expose  of  the  school  lands 
scandal  which  if  not  true  was  the  most  awful  libel 
ever  printed. 

They  never  forgot  that  campaign,  either,  or 
198 


BILLY  GOES  ON  THE  STUMP  1 99 

Billy  Pen's  stump  speaking  in  it;  and  those  who 
wondered  in  after  years  at  her  political  power  in 
her  home  town  were  those  who  never  knew  of 
the  heart-breaking  work  of  that  first  campaign. 
Teaching  school  by  day  in  an  overcrowded  room, 
with  the  chalk  which  was  an  aggravation  each 
separate  minute,  under  irritating  supervision  and 
with  the  prospect  of  discharge  ever  before  her, 
and  by  night  speaking  at  points  miles  away,  in 
little  suburban  halls,  in  trades  union  meetings,  in 
secret  societies  and  mutual  aid  associations,  guild 
meetings,  church  parlors  and  women's  clubs — the 
girl  with  the  golden  hair  carried  her  story  to  the 
people. 

It  required  some  years  of  experience  before 
Billy  Pen  was  able  to  tell  any  other  story  in  pub- 
lic in  a  way  to  move  an  audience.  But  that  school 
story  she  could  then  and  ever  after  tell  in  a  way 
calculated  to  make  every  human  being  who  heard 
it  fighting  mad,  exactly  as  it  had  made  Conover. 

Conover  had  asked  her  to  postpone  her  first 
appearance  until  the  next  Monday  night,  instead 
of  Saturday.  Then  he  had  gone  to  the  Citizens' 
committee  and  arranged  for  that  appearance  to 
be  made  at  a  downtown  theatre  which  happened 
to  have  a  dark  week,  instead  of  at  the  remote 
West  Turner  Hall.  He  stated  in  his  first  article 
that  this  would  be  a  continued  story,  as  it  was  too 
long  to  appear  in  any  one  issue,  if  any  other  news 
were  to  be  printed  In  the  same  number.    He  dwelt 


( 

200  CRAYON   CLUE 

chiefly  upon  the  school  land  end  of  it.  For  the 
practical  results  to  the  schools,  the  human  results 
to  the  children  and  teachers,  he  advised  them  to 
attend  the  Hart  theatre  the  next  night,  where  the 
woman  responsible  for  the  whole  revelation  would 
tell  the  story. 

He  brought  the  whole  force  of  the  article,  and 
the  Sunday  Forum,  to  bear  as  an  advertisement 
for  Billy's  speech  the  next  night.  As  a  conse- 
quence, the  theatre  was  packed  with  an  audience 
which  came  from  every  section  of  the  city,  and 
clamorous  throngs  stood  outside  and  demanded 
admission  until  dispersed  by  the  police. 

Billy  had  a  fearful  moment  of  panic  as  she  got 
her  first  glimpse  of  that  crowd  from  the  wings. 
She  had  never  spoken  to  anything  like  this  be- 
fore. She  was  trembling  in  every  muscle  as  she 
walked  upon  the  platform  with  the  other  speak- 
ers. But  as  she  sat  facing  the  crowd — as  every 
speaker  should  do  before  his  speech — she  grew 
accustomed  to  the  great,  hydra-headed  thing  out 
there.  And  as  she  listened  to  the  two  speakers 
who  preceded  her,  also,  her  fears  were  soothed, 
for  she  knew  in  her  soul  that  she  could  do  bet- 
ter than  they  did. 

When  she  was  called  forward  by  the  chairman 
she  was  astonished  to  be  greeted  by  prolonged 
applause.  No  faces  were  distinguishable  to  her 
eye,  she  had  felt  that  it  was  a  multitude  of 
strangers.     But  she  had  forgotten  the  teachers. 


BILLY  GOES  ON  THE   STUMP  20I 

They  were  there,  hundreds  of  them,  from  all  over 
the  city,  and  they  had  brought  with  them  their 
sisters,  their  cousins  and  their  aunts,  every  one 
under  injunction  to  clap  madly  when  Billy  Pen- 
nington came  out. 

Her  own  voice  sounded  strange  to  her  in  the 
new  place,  so  different  from  any  she  had  ever 
spoken  in  before.  There  was  a  minute  or  two 
of  testing  to  adjust  it,  when  her  touch  was  not 
quite  sure.  But  Billy  knew  her  subject  and  felt 
it  to  be  of  supreme  importance;  the  two  great 
requisites  for  public  speaking.  Soon  she  began 
to  feel  the  response;  that  wonderful,  mysterious, 
psychic  response  which  comes  back  from  the  audi- 
ence, and  in  so  much  greater  measure  from  a 
large  audience.  Soon  she  was  talking  spon- 
taneously, telling  things  about  the  school  situa- 
tion she  had  not  had  in  mind  at  all  before  she  be- 
gan. Incident,  anecdote  and  illustration  fell  from 
her  lips — and  then  she  had  them.  The  great 
audience  hung  upon  her  words. 

The  Citizens*  committee  got  an  eye-opener  that 
night.  They  had  granted  her  the  use  of  their 
platform  as  a  favor,  and  without  expectation  of 
any  return  from  their  kindness.  It  was  McPike 
who  had  put  her  onto  this  scheme,  but  Denny 
himself  could  not  secure  the  permission,  as  he 
was  a  Democrat.  When  she  consented  to  speak 
in  case  they  would  permit  her,  however,  he  scur- 
ried about  and  found  friends  of  his  in  the  Citi- 


202  CRAYON   CLUE 

zens'  camp,  who  were  willing  to  work  the  thing 
for  him.  The  committee  only  allowed  It  because 
it  was  abuse  of  the  present  administration,  and 
all  was  grist  that  came  to  their  mill.  No  one 
among  them  seemed  to  appreciate  the  force  of  the 
material.  Their  minds  were  fixed  immovably 
upon  the  local  Issues  which  had  produced  the  Citi- 
zens ticket  movement.  When  they  saw  Billy  they 
became  a  little  more  complaisant,  as  she  would 
undoubtedly  be  decorative  on  any  stage.  Never- 
theless they  had  no  idea  of  sending  her  anywhere 
except  to  small,  remote  meetings,  where  the  im- 
portant speakers  did  not  care  to  go. 

When  Conover  proposed  the  Hart  theatre 
meeting  they  were  privately  very  dubious  as  to 
whether  the  girl  were  a  fit  speaker  for  such  a 
place.  But  if  the  owner  of  the  Forum  wanted  to 
play  angel  to  one  of  the  Citizens  Party  speakers 
they  certainly  could  not  refuse  him.  After  the 
custom  they  put  the  unimportant  speakers  first. 

When  Billy  had  finished  that  night,  however, 
and  the  chairman  was  about  to  Introduce  the  big 
gun  of  the  evening,  he  was  disturbed  by  about  one 
thousand  teachers,  with  their  sisters  and  their 
cousins  and  their  aunts,  who  arose  and  forthwith 
departed.  The  ladies  did  not  intend  it  as  a  slight. 
They  had  to  teach  school  next  day,  and  they  de- 
sired to  retire  at  as  reasonable  an  hour  as  possi- 
ble. 

This  became  a  regular  part  of  the  proceedings 


BILLY   GOES   ON  THE   STUMP  203 

of  that  campaign,  and  others  soon  began  to  follow 
It  as  well  as  the  teachers.  It  was  made  so  plain 
to  the  committee  that  a  large  part  of  every  audi- 
ence came  to  hear  Miss  Pennington  and  nobody 
else,  that  they  could  not  possibly  misunderstand. 
They  thereupon  wished  to  put  Billy  last  on  every 
programme. 

This  she  strenuously  refused,  for  the  very  per- 
tinent reason  that  she  wanted  to  speak  early  and 
get  home  to  bed,  so  that  she  could  get  up  and 
teach  school  next  morning. 

The  committee  also  manifested  an  entire  will- 
ingness to  use  her  as  a  feature  to  attract  the  pub- 
lic to  their  meetings  and  secure  Its  attention  for 
their  own  speakers  and  their  own  Issues,  leaving 
her  about  ten  minutes  at  the  close  of  a  long  even- 
ing to  speak  on  the  school  situation. 

Billy  had  no  words  with  them  over  this  mat- 
ter, but  she  arranged  her  personal  campaign  to 
suit  herself. 

She  had  formed  the  opinion  that  there  Is  a 
method  of  campaigning  better  than  the  continuous 
holding  of  party  meetings.  These  meetings,  she 
was  convinced,  attracted  few  besides  those  already 
interested.  They  educate  and  enthuse  the  sympa- 
thizers, help  get  out  a  full  party  vote,  but  do  not 
make  many  converts.  The  street  meeting  catches 
a  crowd  that  nothing  else  will,  but  It  has  about 
as  much  dignity  and  standing  as  the  soap  box  or 


204  CRAYON   CLUE 

cart  tail  which  serves  as  its  rostrum,  and  it  is 
unavailable  in  cold  weather. 

To  her  mind  a  singularly  useful  line  of  work 
was  to  secure  admission  to  all  sorts  of  organiza- 
tions, it  did  not  make  much  difference  what. 
There  is  almost  no  organization  which  does  not 
devote  some  time  to  social  meetings.  At  these  the 
"programme,"  of  music,  recitations,  playlets, 
speeches,  stunts  generally,  nearly  always  bear  a 
part;  and  to  this  a  free  speaker  who  comes  well 
recommended  by  members  of  the  order,  can  usu- 
ally secure  admission.  A  straight  political 
speaker,  orating  for  a  specific  ticket,  cannot  secure 
this  opportunity.  But  Billy  believed  that  the 
school  issue,  affecting  all  sorts  and  descriptions  of 
citizens,  and  invested  with  that  non-partisan  at- 
mosphere which  traditionally  surrounds  school 
matters  in  America,  might  be  introduced  before 
these  bodies  in  this  campaign. 

Whenever  she  could  make  a  speech  before  the 
Women's  Relief  Corps,  or  the  Ladies  of  the  Mac- 
cabees, or  the  Plumbers  and  Gasfitters  Union,  or 
the  Ladies'  Travel  Club,  or  the  Bartown  Com- 
mercial Travellers'  Association,  or  the  Seventh 
Ward  Taxpayers'  League,  or  the  Men's  Club  of 
the  Judson  Baptist  Church,  or  the  Ladies'  Aid 
Society  of  the  Fourth  Presbyterian,  or  the  Young 
People's  Literary  Society  of  the  North  Side 
Methodist,  she  knew  that  the  practical  effect  upon 
her  listeners  was  that  this  organization,  of  which 


BILLY  GOES  ON  THE   STUMP  205 

they  were  members,  had  endorsed  her  cause.  The 
cause  acquired  a  double  backing;  that  of  its  own 
merits,  and  that  of  the  association  of  which  they 
were  members.  She  spoke  to  people  made 
friendly  because  she  was  introduced  by  their  own 
friends,  from  their  own  platform;  a  very  differ- 
ent thing  from  appealing  to  Republicans  and 
Democrats  to  desert  their  own  ticket  and  vote  for 
an  unknown  third  party.  She  got  totally  fresh 
audiences  at  these  meetings;  people  who  never 
went  to  political  meetings.  She  brought  her  sub- 
ject into  the  familiar  atmosphere  of  the  church, 
the  club,  the  union. 

Nothing  in  American  life,  compared  to  that  of 
other  nations,  is  more  astonishing  than  the  net- 
work of  organization  that  interlaces  it  in  ramifi- 
cations that  almost  defy  complete  acquaintance. 
Astute  foreigners  long  ago  noticed  it,  and  men- 
tioned it  in  their  accounts  of  American  explora- 
tions in  the  early  days  of  the  Republic. 

It  sprang  up  immediately  after  the  Revolution, 
and  has  never  ceased  to  grow  since,  x^n  American 
who  has  lived  in  such  a  place  as  Sicily,  for  in- 
stance, In  such  a  way  as  to  become  familiar  with 
the  life  of  the  people,  is  almost  appalled  at  the 
complete  absence  of  this  department  of  life,  and 
recognizes  for  the  first  time  how  large  a  space  it 
occupies  in  American  existence.  In  Sicily,  and 
countries  of  which  it  is  a  type,  association  goes 
by  the  tie  of  blood,  stretching  to  the  sbcteenth 


206  CRAYON   CLUE 

cousin.  With  us  It  runs  along  the  line  of  con- 
geniality and  common  interests,  causing  us  to  or- 
ganize for  mutual  benefit  and  pleasure.  Ameri- 
cans are  the  farthest  removed  from  the  tribal 
stage  of  any  people  on  earth. 

Billy  had  a  personal  committee  in  this  cam- 
paign, composed  of  Mrs.  Courtney,  Delia  Per- 
kins, Sara  McPike,  and  those  young  teachers  who, 
still  in  the  age  of  hero  worship,  had  attached  them- 
selves to  the  service  of  the  adored  Miss  Penning- 
ton. Together  they  listed  all  manner  of  organiza- 
tions, with  the  place,  date  and  hour  of  the  regu- 
lar meetings  of  each,  and  the  name  and  address 
of  some  prominent  official  in  each.  Then  one  of 
the  committee  went  to  see  this  person  and  arrange 
a  chance  for  Miss  Pennington  to  speak. 

Delia  Perkins  made  the  lists,  checked  them  off, 
and  kept  Billy's  appointments  straight.  She  was 
admirable  for  that  sort  of  work,  but  she  could 
not  do  the  other  work  of  the  committee.  She  be- 
longed to  no  organization,  and  her  personality 
was  not  of  the  kind  to  impress  a  stranger  to  whom 
she  went  to  ask  a  favor.  Detective  and  second- 
story  man  for  the  movement  seemed  to  be  her 
function. 

Sara  McPike  was  the  natural  and  unofficial 
chairman  of  the  committee,  despite  Mrs.  Court- 
ney's money  and  impressive  presence.  Mrs. 
Courtney's  prestige  was  among  the  women's  clubs, 
the  Daughters  of  the  Revolution,  and  similar  bod- 


BILLY   GOES   ON  THE    STUMP  207 

ies.  She  had  little  church  influence,  for  although 
she  was  a  casual  sort  of  Episcopalian,  on  the 
ground  that  it  Is  a  church  which  interferes  with 
neither  your  politics  nor  your  religion,  she  put  in 
all  her  social  work  outside  the  church. 

But  Sara  had  all  manner  of  unexpected  and 
mysterious  social  relations.  Sara  was  an  officer 
In  the  Catholic  Women's  Benevolent  Association. 
Sara  had  made  mud  pies  with  the  secretary  of  the 
Young  Men's  Institute,  a  Catholic  society  corre- 
sponding to  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa- 
tion. Sara's  cousin  was  president  of  the  Firemen's 
Benevolent  Association.  Sara  had  friends  in  the 
Daughters  of  Rebekah,  the  Knights  of  Pythias, 
the  Elks,  the  Woodmen  of  the  World,  and  even 
In  the  Eastern  Star,  absurd  as  this  may  seem  to 
one  who  knows  the  love  between  the  Catholics 
and  the  Masons.  She  was  not  only  a  "j'iner"  but 
all  her  friends  seemed  to  be  "j'iners."  Miss  Mc- 
Pike,  In  short,  like  her  gifted  brother  Dennis,  had 
the  social  gift.  She  had  also  the  inestimable  ad- 
vantage of  that  brother's  warm  cooperation. 

It  was  watching  the  operations  of  Denny  and 
Sara  that  first  brought  home  to  Billy  what  very 
excellent  team  work  a  man  and  woman  can  do 
together.  She  mentioned  this  to  Sara  as  a  discov- 
ery. 

**I  think  I've  been  defrauded  in  not  having  a 
brother  near  my  own  age,"  she  said;  ''how  much 
we  could  have  done  together!" 


208  CRAYON    CLUE 

"There's  a  Jewish  woman  lawyer  downtown," 
said  Sara,  "she  and  her  brother  play  that  game 
and  have  for  years.  Bullowa  their  name  is.  She 
gets  up  all  the  cases  and  he  does  the  work  in 
court.    A  great  team  they  are." 

Sara  had  never  stepped  inside  a  Protestant 
church,  except  to  see  some  friend  married,  but 
she  sent  Mrs.  Courtney  hither  and  yon  to  inter- 
view Protestant  ministers  and  get  Billy  In;  and 
Mrs.  Courtney  was  exactly  the  sort  of  woman  for 
this  duty. 

The  Episcopal  and  Catholic  churches  never 
permit  the  use  of  their  church  auditoriums  for 
any  but  a  church  function.  This  has  an  effect, 
not  often  noticed  but  real,  in  separating  these  de- 
nominations from  the  great  popular  reform  and 
progressive  movements  In  America,  although  the 
percentage  of  Episcopalian  women  who  have  en- 
tered the  suffrage  movement  in  recent  years  is 
rather  phenomenal. 

It  Is  the  Evangelical  churches — including  for 
this  purpose  the  Unitarian  and  Universalist — 
which  throw  open  their  buildings  for  lectures  on 
the  commission  form  of  government,  the  anti- 
saloon  movement,  the  initiative  and  referendum, 
woman  suffrage,  and  all  manner  of  conferences 
and  conventions  on  these  or  any  other  serious 
question  that  happens  to  be  interesting  the  peo- 
ple. This  also  has  struck  more  than  one  exploring 
foreign  writer  with  amazement. 


BILLY  GOES   ON  THE   STUMP  209 

Sara  was  an  interesting  study  to  Billy,  who 
learned  many  things  from  her.  Life  becomes  a 
very  much  more  interesting  thing  when  one  can 
see  it  objectively,  as  a  picture,  a  story  or  a  drama. 
Billy  was  aware  that  she  was  living  In  one  of  the 
greatest  race  dramas  ever  enacted  In  history:  the 
Assimilation  of  the  American  People.  She  saw 
Sara  and  herself  as  figures  in  this  drama. 

Billy  herself  was  one  of  that  very  large  and 
increasing  class  of  perfectly  moral  and  respectable 
Americans  who  neither  belong  to  nor  attend  any 
church,  and  who  never  think  much  about  religion. 

She  was,  however,  an  irrevocable  Protestant, 
although  she  could  no  more  accept  the  man  Jesus, 
whom  she  regarded  as  historical,  as  a  god,  than 
she  could  accept  the  woman  Mary  as  a  goddess. 
She  regarded  the  churches  as  great  human  or- 
ganizations, built  by  the  race  on  Its  way  upward 
because  they  served  Its  needs,  and  bound  to  con- 
tinue as  long  as  they  served  those  needs  and  no 
longer.  The  Catholic  Church  she  regarded  as 
representing  the  principle  of  authority;  the  Pro- 
testant division  that  of  Individual  responsibility. 
She  was  on  the  side  of  Individual  responsibility 
because  she  couldn't  be  on  any  other. 

But  here  was  Sara  McPIke,  a  person  constitu- 
tionally just  as  unadapted  to  unquestioning  obedi- 
ence as  herself.  Both  had  dents  In  their  heads 
where  the  bump  of  reverence  ought  to  be.  She 
watched  to  see  how  Sara,  who  was  a  very  loyal 


2IO  CRAYON    CLUE 

and  devoted  Catholic,  would  work  out  her  mental 
relations  with  her  own  church. 

She  and  Sara  had  come  down  in  unbroken  line 
of  descent  from  people  who  had  hated,  perse- 
cuted and  killed  each  other.  What  was  much 
more  important,  she  herself  had  lived  as  a 
child  in  an  atmosphere  of  suspicion  and  prejudice 
against  both  the  church  and  the  race  to  which 
Sara  belonged,  and  she  had  not  a  doubt  that  the 
reverse  had  been  true  of  Sara.  Yet  here  they 
were,  fighting  shoulder  to  shoulder,  comrades 
true.    The  assimilation  had  taken  place. 

Conover  himself  did  no  speaking.  He  was  a 
writer,  not  a  speaker  by  trade.  But  he  kept  Billy 
stocked  up  with  facts  and  figures  now  pouring  in 
upon  him  from  many  sources,  using  them  in  his 
paper  after  she  had  told  them  from  the  platform. 
Whatever  else  the  Forum  did  it  always  reported 
her  speeches,  until  the  uninitiated  came  to  think 
that  Wilhelmina  Derwent  Pennington  was  the  last 
word  in  wisdom,  and  was  overturning  the  school 
machine  of  Bartown  by  her  own  unaided  might. 
People  began  to  come  in  droves  from  every  part 
of  the  city  to  any  meeting  where  Miss  Penning- 
ton was  to  speak.  Instead  of  having  to  negotiate 
diplomatically  for  opportunities  to  be  heard,  invi- 
tations now  came  pouring  in  upon  her,  and  urgent 
committees  waited  upon  the  Citizens'  headquar- 
ters, demanding  Miss  Pennington  and  no  one  else. 
Sara  and  Mrs.  Courtney  were  drafted  into  the 


BILLY   GOES   ON  THE    STUMP  211 

service,  and  long  before  the  campaign  was  over 
all  three  were  speaking  every  night  before  vari- 
ous organizations,  which  Billy  continued  to  be- 
lieve were  the  most  useful  vehicles  for  the  dis- 
semination of  her  propaganda. 

Many  of  these  meetings  were  of  women's  or- 
ganizations, but  Billy  took  these  just  as  eagerly 
as  she  did  those  of  men.  For  one  thing,  she  never 
had  the  slightest  idea,  from  the  beginning,  that 
the  Citizens'  Party  would  win  the  election.  What 
she  was  after  was  to  enlighten  the  people  on  the 
way  their  schools  were  being  run.  She  went  on 
the  principle  that  if  you  got  a  woman,  in  a  move- 
ment of  this  kind,  she  would  get  a  man;  but  that 
if  you  got  a  man  it  did  not  necessarily  follow  that 
he  would  get  a  woman.  A  man  may  become 
deeply  interested  in  a  political  matter  and  never 
mention  it  to  his  wife.  But  a  woman  can  never 
be  thus  aroused  without  immediately  assailing  her 
husband  with  all  manner  of  queries  on  the  sub- 
ject. She  obeys  St.  Paul  by  asking  her  husband 
at  home  about  the  matter.  An  evidence  of  this 
is  the  curious  fact  of  an  increase  in  the  male  vote 
in  countries  where  women  have  the  franchise. 

Moreover,  in  this  campaign  Billy  wanted  to  get 
at  that  emotional  quality  in  women  by  virtue  of 
which  they  get  "worked  up"  over  things.  She 
found  a  subtle  difference  in  her  men  and  women 
audiences.  It  was  as  easy  to  educate  and  en- 
lighten men  as  women,  often  easier.     But  after 


212  CRAYON   CLUE 

they  were  enlightened  they  did  not  feel  the  matter 
to  the  same  degree.  More  than  once  she  had 
been  greeted  with  a  roar  of  laughter  when  she 
told  something  which  she  thought  terrible. 
Amused  smiles  greeted  her  revelations  of  graft 
and  trickery.  Often,  even  in  the  house  of  her 
friends,  she  felt  that  exasperated  desire  to  "wipe 
off  that  smile,"  which  she  had  felt  when  standing 
before  the  legislative  committee.  Billy  came  to 
nurse  a  secret  dislike  for  that  masculine  sense  of 
humor  which  has  been  so  much  extolled. 

Audiences  of  women,  on  the  contrary,  were 
much  less  cordial  and  hearty  than  men.  It  was 
notoriously  harder  to  secure  applause  from  them, 
or  to  get  a  laugh  at  a  story.  Many  points  which 
the  men  caught  Instantly  seemed  to  pass  over 
them.  But  they  took  the  matter  seriously.  They 
were  concerned  over  It.  They  thought  It  was 
awful,  and  ought  to  be  stopped.  They  Inquired 
what  they  could  do  to  help.  Not  Infrequently  a 
woman  got  "fighting  mad" — roused  to  the  depths 
of  her  soul.  Billy  never  addressed  such  a  meet- 
ing without  getting  one  and  often  several  workers 
for  the  campaign. 

Throughout  the  campaign  the  conviction  grew 
upon  Billy  that  It  was  an  injury  to  the  body  po- 
litic that  this  quality  so  much  more  widely  spread 
among  women  than  men,  this  touch  of  the  emo- 
tional In  their  feeling  over  any  wrong  or  abuse 
which  they  are  made  to  see  plainly,  should  not  be 


BILLY   GOES   ON  THE   STUMP  213 

brought  into  direct  relation  with  the  process  of 
governing;  that  it  should  have  to  work  at  second 
hand,  through  others.  And  she  felt  also  in  the 
women  themselves  the  degenerating  influence  that 
comes  from  lack  of  personal  responsibility.  The 
care  and  protection  of  children  has  been  the  func- 
tion of  the  female  from  the  days  of  the  horde 
up,  and  stretches  through  the  brute  world  below 
us.  Yet  because  the  Interests  of  the  children  had 
in  this  case  been  removed  into  the  sphere  of  po- 
litical action,  because  they  could  be  affected  only 
through  the  election  of  a  mayor  who  possessed 
the  power  of  appointing  the  School  Board,  many 
of  these  women  seemed  to  feel  that  the  matter  did 
not  concern  them  in  the  slightest  degree. 

Such  a  nerve-racking  siege  of  day  and  night 
work  as  Billy  was  going  through  cannot  be  kept 
up  very  long  with  impunity  by  anyone.  But  one 
mighty  rehef  was  vouchsafed  her  from  the  first. 
The  Citizens'  committee  placed  an  automobile 
at  her  disposal  for  the  campaign.  No  more  hang- 
ing to  street-car  straps  and  weary  searching  for 
strange  addresses  in  the  dark  in  going  to  meet- 
ings. Instead,  a  velvet  rolling  closed  limousine 
with  a  taciturn  youth  on  the  front  seat  who 
seemed  to  have  in  his  head  a  map  of  Bartown  to 
its  farthest  suburb. 

This  beauteous  car  took  Billy  and  Sara  to  their 
meetings  every  night  and  brought  them  home 
again,  relieving  them,  they  declared,  of  at  least 


214  CRAYON    CLUE 

fifty  per  cent,  of  the  effort.  Billy  did  not  know 
till  long  after  that  Conover  had  offered  the  com- 
mittee the  use  of  one  of  his  cars  for  the  cam- 
paign, with  the  strict  proviso  that  it  should  be 
at  Miss  Pennington's  disposal  every  night. 

The  worry  of  clothes  was  also  removed  from 
her  mind.  No  work  is  so  exacting  in  respect  to 
dress  as  that  which  demands  appearance  upon  the 
public  platform,  for  people  to  stare  at.  This 
was  particularly  irritating  in  Billy's  case,  for  her 
audiences  varied  from  night  to  night  in  character, 
and  she  often  hardly  knew  what  to  dress  for. 
Her  one  "good  dress"  that  winter  was  the  much- 
quoted  brown  velveteen,  a  most  becoming  gar- 
ment, but  to  all  intents  and  purposes  a  street 
dress.  It  was  suitable  for  many  meetings,  but 
for  others  not  at  all.  Billy  not  only  felt  that  she 
could  not  afford  an  evening  gown,  but  that  the 
time  and  effort  necessary  to  get  one  up — the  shop- 
ping, search  for  a  dressmaker,  trying  on — would 
prostrate  her.  Her  school  work  and  the  cam- 
paign were  all  she  could  carry.  Any  further  de- 
mand maddened  her. 

Into  this  breach  stepped  Mrs.  Courtney  with 
the  quiet  assertion  that  Billy  was  to  turn  this  all 
over  to  her. 

**Let  me  contribute  this  to  the  campaign,  Billy," 
said  she;  "you  can  give  the  dresses  back  after  the 
campaign  is  over  if  you  don't  wish  to  keep  them. 


BILLY  GOES  ON  THE  STUMP  215 

Just  let  me  contribute  the  use  of  them  as  I  would 
the  decorations  of  a  meeting.'' 

So  a  modiste  took  Billy's  measurements,  ad- 
justed a  dressmaker's  form  to  them,  and  Billy 
heard  no  more  of  the  dresses  till  they  came  home; 
two  exquisite  little  one-piece  gowns,  a  black  lace 
with  jet  about  the  bodice,  elegant  enough  for 
dress  occasions  and  quiet  enough  for  very  plain 
ones,  which  made  Billy's  skin  look  white  as  cream 
and  her  hair  as  yellow  as  gold;  and  another  of 
corn-colored  tissue,  which  exactly  matched  her 
hair  and  made  her  look  like  a  little  French  mar- 
quise. 

"Oh,  dear,"  said  Billy,  who  had  struggled  with 
poverty  all  her  life,  "how  money  does  ease  every- 
thing up." 

Money,  however,  could  not  have  bought  her 
the  care  she  had  at  home.  All  the  little  household 
duties  In  which  she  had  always  participated  were 
removed  from  her  shoulders  by  the  others.  Her 
room  work  was  done,  her  stockings  darned,  her 
clothes  kept  In  order.  And  she  was  groomed  like 
a  trotting  horse.  When  she  came  In  at  night  her 
mother  fed  her  with  hot  beef  tea  and  massaged 
her  to  sleep.  Billy  always  said  she  never  could 
have  gotten  through  that  campaign  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  those  kind  hands,  soothing  and  calming 
her  nerves  to  rest  every  night.  Mrs.  Pennington 
was  dubious  about  this  business.  She  disliked  all 
this  hard  work  and  nerve  strain  for  Billy.     She 


'2l6  CRAYON   CLUE 

reflected  sombrely  on  the  dismissal  from  the 
schools  which  was  inevitable  sooner  or  later.  But 
she  said  nothing,  for  she  knew  her  daughter.  She 
knew  her  for  a  come  outer  by  nature,  one  of  the 
tribe  of  Those  Who  Cannot  Stand  In;  a  soldier 
of  the  Forlorn  Hope.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
but  ease  her  strenuous  way. 

If  Mrs.  Pennington  had  not  been  aware  of 
these  qualities  in  her  daughter  she  would  have 
discovered  them  on  the  day  of  the  Hart  theatre 
meeting.  This  chapter  has  run  ahead  of  its  story. 
That  Hart  theatre  meeting  produced  one  startling 
result. 

Both  Dreiser  and  Brackett  had  been  at  that 
meeting.  Denny  had  told  her  so  when  he  took 
her  home  from  the  theatre. 

Undressing  for  bed  that  night  Billy  informed 
Ethel  of  this  fact  and  then  suddenly  began  to 
laugh,  quietly,  but  In  an  abandonment  of  mirth. 
The  fit  had  seized  her  when  she  was  half  un- 
dressed, and  she  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  one 
shoe  and  stocking  off  and  the  other  on,  laughing 
weakly,  while  one  hand  rose  waveringly  and  fell 
helplessly  back  upon  her  knee  after  the  manner 
of  women  convulsed  with  amusement. 

"For  pity^s  sake,  share  it,"  cried  Ethel. 

"Why,  do  you  know,'*  gasped  Billy,  "half  the 
reason  Denny  hates  Dreiser  so  is  because  he  is  a 
German?" 

"Is  that  so?"  said  Ethel. 


BILLY  GOES  ON  THE   STUMP  21^ 

"Yes,  he  always  calls  him  *that  Dutchman.' 
He  never  refers  to  him  in  any  other  way,  only 
sometimes  he  calls  him  *that  damned  Dutchman.' 
And  every  time  he  sees  him  he  hums  that  song, 
you  know 

"  ^There's  nothing  in  this  country  but  the  con- 
sarned  Dutch.'  " 

"Well,  I  don't  see  why  that  amuses  you  so 
deeply,"  said  Ethel. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Billy,  wiping  her 
eyes;  "it  seems  such  a  funny  thing  to  hate  any- 
body for,  and  then  Denny  always  makes  me 
laugh  anyway,  and  then  it  always  strikes  me  as 
funny  to  see  the  various  foreigners  in  this  coun- 
try hate  each  other.  They're  all  willing  to  give 
the  Americans  first  place,  but  It  makes  them  wild 
if  any  race  but  their  own  is  put  next." 

Ethel  smiled  upon  her  older  sister,  so  much 
smaller  than  herself. 

"It's  a  good  thing  you  get  lots  of  amusement 
out  of  watching  people,  Billy,"  said  she,  "it  keeps 
you  going,  I  guess.     But  is  Dreiser  German?" 

"Just  about  as  much  German  as  Denny  is 
Irish,"  said  Billy;  "that's  what  makes  it  so  funny. 
And  say,  do  you  know  what  Denny  says  was  the 
one  thing  I  said  that  made  Dreiser  mad  at  the 
hearing  down  at  the  legislature  the  other  day?" 

"No;  what?" 

"When  I  said  that  about  the  girls  of  course  lik- 


2l8  CRAYON   CLUE 

ing  young  men  of  their  own  age  better  than  a 
man  as  old  as  Mr.  Dreiser.  Denny  says  he  was 
watching  him  and  when  I  said  that  a  look  came  In 
his  eyes  as  if  he  could  kill  me  for  a  second.  Did 
you  know  he  was  sixty  years  old?" 

"You  don't  say!"  exclaimed  Ethel.  "I  sup- 
posed he  was  about  forty-five." 

"So  does  everybody.  Denny  says  he's  very 
proud  of  that,  and  very  sensitive  about  his  real 
age.  Denny  says  he's  a  great  lady's  man.  He 
probably  thought  I  knew  his  real  age  and  was  giv- 
ing him  a  slap  on  it."  And  Miss  Pennington  dis- 
solved Into  helpless  mirth  again,  deeply  tickled, 
apparently,  at  the  discovery  of  this  amiable  weak- 
ness in  her  superior. 

The  next  evening  there  was  a  little  impromptu 
reception  at  the  Pennington  flat,  the  gang  drop- 
ping in  unexpectedly,  one  after  the  other,  to  fe- 
licitate Billy  upon  her  success  of  the  night  before, 
and  discuss  future  plans.  The  Heavenly  Twins, 
as  Billy  called  the  McPIkes,  were  there,  Mrs. 
Courtney,  Professor  Andrews,  Delia  Perkins,  and 
Conover;  this  being  the  first  time  he  had  fore- 
gathered socially  with  this  cheerful  crowd  of  con- 
spirators. As  they  sat  talking  there  was  a  ring 
at  the  door  bell,  and  a  letter  was  handed  in  by 
a  special  messenger. 

Billy  opened  and  read  it  and  then  began  to 
wallow  in  the  same  sort  of  convulsion  as  on  the 
night  before,  slapping  her  knee  feebly,  and  other- 


BILLY  GOES   ON  THE   STUMP  219 

Wise  indicating  approaching  dissolution  from  pure 
mirth. 

"Here,  here/'  said  Conover;  "give  us  a  look 
in.'' 

She  pushed  the  letter  toward  him  with  a  lax 
and  drooping  hand,  and  continued  to  laugh. 
Conover  read  it  and  then  laughed  in  his  turn. 
Then  he  read  it  out  loud  and  they  all  laughed. 

It  was  a  very  polite  and  formal  letter  from 
the  Teachers'  committee  of  the  Board  of  Edu- 
cation, offering  Miss  Pennington  the  principal- 
ship  of  one  of  the  buildings  in  the  city.  The 
principal  of  this  school  had  died  a  week  before, 
said  the  letter.  Her  place  had  been  filled  during 
the  past  week  by  a  substitute,  but  now  the  Board, 
after  due  deliberation,  desired  to  offer  this  posi- 
tion to  Miss  Pennington  in  consideration  of  her 
very  fine  record  made  during  the  past  ten  years 
in  the  schools. 

"Aha!"  cried  Conover,  his  blue  eyes  dancing, 
"such  a  great  light  do  our  masters  and  rulers  some- 
times see." 

"Sure  the  Forum  had  naught  in  the  wurruld 
to  do  wid  this,"  observed  Denny  McPike. 

"Nor  the  Hart  theatre  meeting  last  night," 
said  Mrs.  Courtney. 

"Will  you  take  it?"  they  all  cried  in  concert, 
turning  upon  Billy. 

"Take  it?  Of  course  not.  What  do  you  take 
me  for?"  said  she. 


220  CRAYON   CLUE 

"That's  no  way  to  do,"  observed  Denny,  "now 
youVe  terrorized  the  job  out  of  them  not  to  take 
it.  What  have  you  been  working  this  little  game 
for,  anyway?'' 

"Shut  up,  Denny,"  said  his  sister,  "this  Is  no 
joke.  Billy,  you  can  take  It  and  keep  right  on 
with  the  fight.  This  would  put  you  under  no  ob- 
ligations to  these  people.  It's  not  their  money 
they'd  be  paying  you,  or  their  work  you'd  be 
doing." 

"Miss  McPIke  Is  undoubtedly  correct,"  said 
Conover;  "why  not  spoil  the  Egyptians?" 

"Dutch,"  murmured  Denny,  sotto  voce. 

Billy  looked  up  at  Conover  and  found  his  look 
fixed  upon  her  with  almost  embarrassing  Intent- 
ness. 

"You're  all  mistaken,"  said  she  simply;  "those 
considerations  don't  bother  me  any.  I'll  tell  you 
right  now  that  I'd  like  to  accept  the  promotion, 
because  the  salary's  twenty-five  hundred,  and  I'm 
getting  only  a  thousand.    But  I  can't." 

"Why  can't  you?" 

"Well,  because  I'm  not  built  that  way,"  said 
she  hesitatingly.  "I  can't  take  anything  from 
Dreiser." 

The  talk  turned  into  an  eager  discussion  of  the 
reasons  of  the  offer.  In  which  all  hands  agreed 
that  It  looked  as  If  "thim  pirates"  as  Denny  named 
them,  were  very  much  alarmed  and  anxious  to 
bribe  Billy  into  silence.     In  the  midst  of  it  they 


BILLY   GOES   ON  THE   STUMP  221 

heard  a  very  loud  voice  from  the  kitchen  appar- 
ently delivering  an  oration. 

They  looked  about  and  perceived  that  Denny 
and  Ethel  were  no  longer  with  them.  A  rush  was 
made  for  the  kitchen,  where  they  beheld  Ethel 
standing  at  the  ironing  board,  upon  which  lay  a 
crisp  white  linen  blouse,  evidently  engaged  In 
that  favorite  evening  occupation  of  neat  and  im- 
pecunious young  ladies  called  "doing  up  a  shirt 
waist."  She  held  a  hot  flatiron  suspended  in  her 
hand,  and  gazed  with  amazement  at  Denny,  who 
standing  upon  a  chair  in  front  of  a  large  cup- 
board declaimed  these  strange  words: 

"Parowax 

Where  I  ax 
Is  the  cussed  stuff. 

It's  meself 

O'er  the  shelf 
Has  looked  and  looked  enough." 

"What's  the  matter  with  Denny?"  cried  Billy. 

"I  don't  know.  I  just  asked  him  to  get  me 
the  parowax  from  the  pantry  shelf  to  clean  my 
irons  with  and  he  broke  out  like  that,"  replied 
Ethel  In  an  Injured  tone. 

**  Parowax, 

Break  your  backs, 
Gosh,  the  deep  disgrace, 

Not  to  find 

Any  kind 
Of  grease  to  save  yer  face," 

declaimed  Denny. 


222  CRAYON   CLUE 

"Ah,  he's  Sheumas  McManus,  the  last  of  the 
harpers,"  said  Sara. 

"Don't  call  me  a  harp,  I'll  not  stand  it,"  said 
Denny. 

"It's  what  all  the  Gulns  call  you,"  said  Billy 
maliciously;  "when  they  refer  to  your  respected 
race  they  say  'thim  Harps.'  " 

Denny  looked  at  her  with  sorrow  in  his  eye 
and  said  sadly: 

"Oh,  maiden  rare, 
Maiden  fair, 

Maid  with  the  taffy-colored  hair, 
Why  dost  let  no  taffy  slip 
From  that  redly  smiling  lip? 
Tell  me  that,  you  little  rip." 

"I  wish  you'd  take  him  away,"  said  Ethel  help- 
lessly, "I  want  to  work.  Take  him  In  the  sitting 
room  and  see  if  you  can't  keep  him  still." 

"Parowax, 
Thumbletacks" — 

screamed  Denny  defiantly,  but  was  mauled  and 
hustled  and  not  allowed  to  complete  his  poem. 
They  streamed  back  Into  the  sitting  room  and 
Conover,  dropping  on  the  stool  before  the  little 
old  upright  piano  struck  the  chords  of  "The  Harp 
That  Once  Through  Tara's  Halls."  His  touch 
was  good  and  he  sang  a  stanza  in  a  beautiful 
clear  tenor. 


BILLY  GOES   ON  THE   STUMP  223 

"Join  in,  join  in,"  he  cried,  but  they  would 
not  join  in.  They  preferred  to  listen  to  him.  Billy 
slipped  into  a  chair  from  which  she  could  watch 
his  face  as  he  sang,  and  sat  with  her  head  lean- 
ing back,  in  an  attitude  of  complete  relaxation. 

He  did  not  look  at  her  until  he  had  finished. 
Then,  as  the  last  exquisite  note  died  he  flashed  a 
glance  her  way  and  the  blue  eyes  and  the  brown 
ones  met. 

*'Who  ever  knew  you  could  do  this  sort  of 
thing?"  she  murmured. 

It  was  one  of  those  gay,  spontaneous  hours 
which  cannot  be  planned  or  arranged.  Long 
after,  when  the  sadness  of  the  years  drops  down, 
a  few  such  hours  can  be  seen,  shining  bright  in 
the  long,  dull  line  of  gray  ones,  as  the  wayfarer 
looks  back. 


CHAPTER   XII 
In  Which  Billy  Is  Immersed  in  Politics 

SUCH  Idle  Interludes  were  rare.  The  Citi- 
zens' campaign,  reinforced  by  the  Forum, 
was  assuming  formidable  proportions,  and  the 
school  Issue  loomed  ever  larger  In  its  midst. 

The  citizens'  ticket  Is  a  well-known  phenome- 
non In  American  municipal  politics,  when  the  Re- 
publican and  Democratic  parties,  which  obviously 
have  nothing  to  do  with  paving  streets,  running 
schools  and  carting  away  garbage,  become  too 
unpopular  locally  for  further  endurance.  Toledo 
seems  to  be  the  one  American  town  In  which 
people  have  taken  the  government  Into  their  own 
hands  and  run  it  without  reference  to  any  na- 
tional party  for  a  long  series  of  years;  being  edu- 
cated thereto  by  the  famous  Golden  Rule  Jones, 
whose  mantle  fell  upon  his  accomplished  literary 
and  criminal  defending  secretary,  Brand  Whlt- 
lock. 

But  such  movements  are  not  infrequently  suc- 
cessful sporadically.  In  Bartown  there  were  cer- 
tainly reasons  for  the  movement,  plenty  as  black- 
berries.   But  It  had  been  started  as  a  sort  of  silk 

224 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  225 

Stocking  affair  which  lacked  warmth  and  popular 
sympathy.  The  reformers  engineering  it  were 
justly  enraged  and  disgusted  at  the  graft  In  the 
city  government,  and  the  intelligent  smaller  tax- 
payers, aware  that  they  were  compelled  to  pay 
more  on  their  small  properties  than  many  a  man 
of  great  wealth,  were  ready  to  join  them.  But 
you  cannot  rouse  the  great  public  over  revela- 
tions of  graft  alone,  unless  you  show  them  how 
human  beings  are  Injured  by  it;  and  reformers  are 
often  cold-blooded  fish. 

That  warm  human  note  which  the  campaign 
had  lacked  came  into  it  with  the  school  Issue  and 
the  people  who  were  backing  It.  It  speedily  be- 
came so  much  the  most  popular  Issue  of  the 
campaign  that  the  rallying  cry  of  "Save  the 
Schools"  was  adopted. 

It  spread  like  wildfire.  Sullen  rivers  of  dissat- 
isfaction and  disgust  which  had  been  flowing  un- 
derground burst  to  the  surface  and  joined  the 
flood.  Fresh  tales  and  proofs  rolled  In  from 
people  who  found  courage  to  speak  when  they 
saw  leaders  come  forward.  Sores  that  had  been 
festering  for  years  were  exposed  to  view.  A 
group  of  the  ablest  men  on  the  Forum  city  staff 
were  devoting  their  entire  time  to  the  campaign 
and  they  featured  the  school  Issue.  Billy  sud- 
denly discovered  that  an  American  newspaper  is 
a  pretty  nice  thing  when  it  is  on  your  side  of  the 
game. 


226  CRAYON   CLUE 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Conover  assumed  the 
active  management  of  his  paper  which  he  has 
never  since  resigned.  He  assumed  it  so  actively 
that  there  was  no  possibility  of  any  misunder- 
standing on  the  subject  throughout  the  whole 
plant.  The  Old  Man,  who  was  the  human  em- 
bodiment of  the  forty-year-old  Forum  policy,  and 
whom  Conover's  own  employees  had  believed  he 
could  never  get  on  without,  was  gently  but  defi- 
nitely superseded.  He  continued  to  administer 
the  plant,  but  he  no  longer  directed  the  policy 
of  the  paper. 

The  Forum^s  circulation  increased  enormously. 
It  was  now  seen  in  the  street  cars  as  much  as  any 
paper  except  the  yellows  themselves,  and  on  the 
suburban  trains  it  was  in  the  hands  of  the  com- 
muters more  frequently  than  any  other.  It  re- 
tained the  conservative  readers  which  had  always 
distinguished  it,  and  could  still  boast  that  it  was 
the  trusted  visitor  of  the  hearth  and  home  in  Bar- 
town.  Some  of  its  old  readers  were  infuriated 
at  It,  but  they  read  it  more  assiduously  than  ever, 
to  see  what  it  would  say  next.  Its  advertising 
rates,  always  high  on  account  of  the  quality  of 
Its  clientele,  rose  heavily  with  the  leap  in  its  cir- 
culation. There  had  always  been  large  sections 
of  the  city  where  not  a  Forum  could  be  found. 
There  was  no  longer  a  news  stand  In  the  city 
without  it,  even  in  the  foreign  quarter. 

The  Forum  was  playing  a  big  game.     It  was 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN   POLITICS'         227 

fighting  all  the  rest  of  the  dailies  in  the  city  single- 
handed,  a  spectacle  which  amazed  and  delighted 
Bartown  without  measure.  One  paper,  the  News, 
which  had  come  out  for  the  Citizens'  ticket  before 
the  school  issue  had  been  injected  into  the  cam- 
paign, now  stood  wavering  with  the  agonized  look 
of  one  who  has  grasped  an  electric  battery  and 
is  unable  to  let  go.  No  wonder,  when  it  held  a 
lease  from  the  School  Board,  good  till  1985  with- 
out revaluation,  for  its  lot  on  Morris  street  for 
$14,000  a  year,  while  a  smaller  lot  just  across 
the  street  paid  $30,000  a  year  ground  rent.  And 
it  had  already  come  out  editorially  for  the  ticket 
supported  by  a  colleague  which  was  now  cheer- 
fully printing  this  fact  as  campaign  material. 

Bartown  perceived  the  News^  dilemma  and 
laughed  consumedly. 

The  Associated  Press  men  and  special  corre- 
spondents also  hastened  to  their  typewriters  and 
the  whole  country  began  to  watch  the  fight  that 
the  young  millionaire  was  waging  with  his  news- 
paper as  the  weapon.  Americans  love  a  story  of 
a  scrap  like  this,  running  day  after  day,  cleverly 
cartooned,  in  the  papers.  A  greater  percentage 
of  them  read,  enjoy  and  comprehend  it  than  in 
any  other  country  on  earth.  The  out-of-town 
circulation  of  the  Forum  jumped  almost  as  soon 
as  that  in  the  city;  and  as  the  name  of  the  Bar- 
town  school  teacher  who  had  started  the  fuss 
came  into  every  account  of  the  campaign,  it  was 


228  CRAYON   CLUE 

at  this  time  that  Miss  Pennington  first  began  to 
be  heard  of  over  the  country. 

The  style  of  the  Forum  changed  also.  A  peri- 
odical column  of  dignified  gossip,  written  by  a 
man  under  the  name  of  the  Countess  of  Fontenoy, 
which  had  for  many  years  Instructed  and  edified 
the  people  with  intimate  facts  concerning  the 
British  nobility,  was  ruthlessly  cut  out.  A  cer- 
tain tone  of  solemnity,  of  reverence,  which  had 
pervaded  all  reference  to  the  British  royal  fam- 
ily ever  since  Conover's  grandfather  had  been 
ambassador  at  the  Court  of  St.  James  many  years 
before,  was  distinctly,  not  to  say  Irreverently, 
lightened.  That  elephantine,  that  pachydermic 
seriousness  with  which  the  Forum  had  taken  itself, 
had  vanished.  It  no  longer  seemed  to  regard 
Itself  as  the  guide  and  mentor  of  nations,  mon- 
archs  and  schools  of  thought.  Instead  it  dis- 
played an  entirely  unexpected  and  disconcerting 
knowledge  of  some  things  transpiring  under  Its 
own  nose  which  was  very  offensive  to  those  caus- 
ing them  to  transpire.  The  ponderous  sledge- 
hammer seemed  to  have  given  way  to  the  danc- 
ing rapier  In  Its  editorials.  The  deadly  impor- 
tance which  had  distinguished  its  style  was  re- 
placed by  a  light  and  mocking  note  which  roused, 
stung,  penetrated,  amused  and  flayed. 

Conover's  joy  In  the  fight,  his  satisfaction  and 
growing  sense  of  power  as  he  saw  his  policies 
justified,  the  exercise  of  responsibility  and  author- 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  229 

ity,  developed  and  matured  him  day  by  day.  An 
electric  atmosphere  seemed  to  envelop  him.  Joy 
of  life  and  lust  of  battle  gleamed  from  his  eye 
and  curled  the  smile  upon  his  lip. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  ever  would  have  taken 
over  the  paper  If  you  hadn't  jarred  me  out  of 
my  rut,"  he  said  to  Billy  one  night  In  the  car, 
as  they  were  going  home  from  the  meeting  where 
she  had  been  speaking. 

''Nonsense,  of  course  you  would  have  taken 
it  over,"  said  she. 

"You  are  not  aware.  Miss  Pennington,"  said 
he,  "of  the  awe  of  the  Bartown  Forum  In  which 
I  grew  up.  Why,  my  grandfather  always  took 
off  his  hat  the  minute  he  stepped  inside  the  door 
of  that  office.  I  haven't  recovered  yet  from  the 
discovery  that  Fm  bigger  than  the  paper.  I  was 
always  afraid  to  Interfere  with  the  old  sheet  till 
you  came  along  and  pried  me  loose.  I  tell  you 
what.  Bill,  my  boy,  there's  more  fun  In  running 
a  big  American  newspaper,  when  you  own  It,  than 
In  any  other  stunt  on  earth.  I'd  rather  have  that 
job  than  be  a  king." 

"It's  as  big  a  job  as  a  good  many  kings  have," 
said  Billy. 

"That's  right.  We're  living  In  the  biggest 
and  highest  pressure  and  most  Interesting  and 
romantic  period  and  country  this  world  ever  saw. 
Why,  these  malefactors  of  great  wealth  are  play- 
ing a  game  about  a  billion  times  bigger  than  it 


230  CRAYON    CLUE 

was  when  those  old  barons  played  it,  swooping 
down  from  those  castles  along  the  Rhine  to  hold 
up  the  merchants'  barges  floating  down  the  river 
from  Frankfort." 

"I  should  say  they  were,"  said  Billy,  struck 
by  the  comparison. 

**Yes,  imagine  cleaning  up  a  continent,  a  virgin 
continent  like  America,  gathering  the  control  of 
all  its  resources  into  a  few  hands,  so  fast  as 
they  are  doing  it  here.  Why,  it's  practically  all 
been  done  since  the  Civil  War.  There  never  was 
anything  like  it  for  dash  and  power  and  complete- 
ness and  magnificence  since  the  Romans,  and  the 
Romans  did  move  so  mortal  slow,  with  nothing 
but  the  horse  and  sail  to  get  around  with. 

"Say  Billy" — he  laughed  delightedly — "do  you 
know  that  old  geezer  Julius  Klein  has  taken  his 
ad  out  of  the  paper  because  he  says  I'm  attack- 
ing his  business?" 

"Klein  the  department  store  man?" 

"Same." 

"The  one  that's  on  the  School  Board?" 

"Yes,  you  see  Julius  has  a  little  side  line,  be- 
sides the  department  store.  He  holds  a  lease  on 
a  lot  at  the  southwest  corner  of  Horner  and  Mor- 
ris streets.  That's  one  of  the  most  valuable  cor- 
ners in  the  city.  Julius  means  to  build  a  new 
department  store  on  that  corner,  I  think,  but  he 
hasn't  got  around  to  it  yet.  Julius  gets  it  for 
fifteen  thousand  dollars  a  year,  ground  rent,  and 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN   POLITICS  23 1 

no  taxes.  There's  a  little  old  four-story  building 
on  It,  filled  with  old-fashioned,  inconvenient  of- 
fices, which  certainly  would  not  be  rented  by  the 
class  of  men  who  occupy  them  if  it  weren't  for 
the  location.  And  what  do  you  think  JuHus  cleans 
up  on  that  old  junk  shop  every  year?  Forty  thou- 
sand dollars  net,  that's  all.  Forty  thousand  dol- 
lars a  year  due  almost  entirely  to  the  value  of  the 
land,  gobbled  out  of  the  kiddies." 

"And  he  was  the  man  who  was  so  horrified 
at  the  idea  of  a  woman  like  Kate  Miller  in  the 
schools,"  said  Billy. 

**Yes,  poor  Julius  has  a  very  refined  nature. 
That's  the  reason  he's  wringing  the  tears  out  of 
his  handkerchief  now.  I've  made  him  smell  to 
heaven.  I  thought  it  was  a  pity  to  have  the  news- 
papers suffer  all  the  odium  of  this  thing  when 
they're  no  worse  than  a  lot  of  other  Bartown 
Christians,  so  I  set  the  boys  to  searching  the  rec- 
ords and  they  rooted  out  Julius.  Oh,  shucks; 
here  we  are  at  your  house.  I  wish  you'd  speak 
a  little  farther  out,  Miss  Pennington,  so  we 
wouldn't  get  home  quite  so  soon.  Say,  Billy,  come 
on  down  to  Tortoni's,  just  for  once,  and  get  a 
little  hot  supper.     It'll  do  you  good." 

*'No,  I  won't  do  it.  What's  the  use  of  your 
asking  me  when  you  know  I  won't." 

"Why  not,  you  crank?" 

"Because  I  can't  put  in  four  sessions  a  day. 


232  CRAYON   CLUE 

Three's  enough.  IVe  got  to  have  some  sleep. 
Good-night."     And  she  fled  up  the  steps. 

Her  reply  was  truthful  as  far  as  it  went;  but 
she  would  not  go  out  socially  with  Conover  on 
Friday  or  Saturday  nights  either,  even  when  he 
wished  to  make  up  a  party.  She  felt  that  the 
extreme  publicity  she  was  encountering,  and  the 
antipathy  she  was  rousing,  made  it  wiser  not  to 
offer  a  chance  for  connecting  her  name  with  that 
of  any  man.  She  knew  it  was  not  wise  to  allow 
him  to  come  in  the  car  when  it  came  to  take  her 
home  after  her  meetings.  But  there  was  almost 
no  other  time  when  they  could  discuss  campaign 
matters,  so  she  permitted  it  occasionally,  when  he 
had  telephoned  her  about  it  beforehand.  He  had 
tried  to  make  it  a  regular  thing,  every  evening; 
and  when  she  forbade  it  had  laughed  indulgently 
and  appeared  again  the  next  night.  She  had 
thereupon  walked  out  to  the  corner  and  taken  a 
street  car  home.  This  was  sufficient.  He  came 
no  more  without  receiving  her  permission,  and 
this  was  not  often. 

A  vague  sense  of  danger  lay  in  the  back  of 
her  brain.  The  offer  of  the  principalship  showed 
that  the  school  gang  was  sufficiently  disturbed  by 
her  operations  to  offer  her  a  bribe.  She  had  re- 
fused the  bribe.    What  would  they  do  next? 

Her  friends  wondered  that  Billy  refused  the 
promotion.  It  was  perfectly  simple  to  her.  She 
would  have  had  no  more  scruples  in  accepting  the 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  233 

position  and  then  continuing  the  fight  than  she 
had  had  in  receiving  the  stolen  letters  which  con- 
tained the  proof  of  Dreiser's  graft.  Her  sense  of 
honor  did  not  trouble  her  in  that  direction.  The 
place  where  it  pinched  was  In  her  scant  service  to 
her  class.  The  high  point  of  Billy's  morals  was 
her  duty  to  her  pupils,  just  as  the  high  point  in 
morals  for  a  good  painter  Is  good  painting,  or 
for  an  actor  good  acting.  She  felt  throughout 
this  campaign  that  she  was  depriving  her  pupils  of 
energies  which  rightfully  belonged  to  them,  and 
only  consoled  herself  with  the  reflection  that  it 
was  for  their  ultimate  benefit.  But  the  teaching 
of  her  class  was  a  very  simple  matter.  She  could 
get  through  It  fairly  well  even  under  all  the  pres- 
ent hindrances  and  drawbacks.  But  the  new  and 
untried  position  of  principal  would  have  de- 
manded all  her  time  and  strength  at  first.  She 
could  not  take  It  and  keep  on  with  her  campaign. 
Moreover,  she  knew  that  the  offer  was  a  farce; 
that  If  the  Citizens'  ticket  were  defeated  she 
would  be  immediately  turned  out.  And  finally 
and  ultimately  there  was  the  real  reason,  which 
was  sufiiclent  without  any  of  the  rest.  This  was 
that  she  detested  Dreiser  so  much  that  she  could 
not  accept  anything  from  him,  even  if  it  were 
rightfully  hers.  Had  he  picked  up  a  pocketbook 
which  she  had  dropped,  and  offered  it  to  her,  It 
would  have  been  repulsive  to  her  to  take  it  from 
his  hand. 


234  CRAYON   CLUE 

Her  present  position  had  not  been  given  her  by 
him.  She  felt  under  no  obligations  to  him  for  it. 
And  even  this  she  knew  was  doomed.  If  they 
did  not  discharge  her  after  the  campaign  was 
over,  she  knew  that  she  would  have  to  resign,  be- 
cause she  could  not  work  with  these  people  any 
longer.  The  atmosphere  of  the  schools  had  be- 
come too  repulsive.  She  had  to  get  out  of  it. 
Where  she  was  going  or  what  she  was  going  to 
do  she  did  not  know,  but  this  was  not  worrying 
her.  She  had  definitely  put  it  away  to  be  con- 
sidered after  the  campaign  was  over.  She  pre- 
ferred to  hold  her  present  position  until  the  end 
of  the  school  year,  because  everything  she  said 
upon  the  stump  had  so  much  more  force  when 
it  was  known  she  was  actually  in  the  schools ;  and 
because  it  would  be  difficult  to  secure  a  position 
In  the  schools  of  any  other  city  before  that  time. 

She  and  Conover  were  busy  conspirators  in 
these  days.  Conover  had  brought  two  suits  in 
Miss  Harcourt's  name;  the  first  against  Brackett, 
for  damages  In  stating,  to  her  great  injury  and 
detriment,  that  she  was  insane. 

*'He  has  forty-five  hundred  a  year,  and  his 
principals  do  all  the  work,"  said  Billy  vindic- 
tively; "go  after  him  and  get  some  of  it."  The 
second  was  against  the  School  Board,  requiring 
it  to  show  why  it  should  not  either  reinstate  Miss 
Harcourt  In  her  position,  or  pay  her  the  balance 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  235 

of  her  year's  salary  from  the  day  when  she  had 
been  discharged. 

These  two  suits  were  now  pending,  and  Con- 
over  would  push  them  as  soon  as  the  end  of  the 
campaign  gave  him  a  little  more  time.  His  own 
attorney  had  them  in  hand  and  Miss  Harcourt, 
better  and  stronger  than  she  had  been  for  years 
past,  was  ready  to  go  upon  the  stand  and  con- 
found her  enemies. 

The  School  Board  had  passed  a  resolution  for- 
bidding any  teacher  in  its  employ  to  take  part  in 
any  political  campaign. 

The  Forum  had  thereupon  secured  an  injunc- 
tion forbidding  the  Board  to  discharge  any  em- 
ployee for  disobeying  this  order;  and  had  an- 
nounced that  it  would  make  the  matter  a  test  case, 
if  necessary,  and  carry  it  to  the  Supreme  Court  of 
the  United  States,  to  decide  whether  a  school 
board  had  the  right  to  control  the  time  of  teach- 
ers out  of  school,  or  to  forbid  them  the  exercise 
of  rights  guaranteed  to  American  citizens  gen- 
erally under  the  Constitution. 

The  Board  made  no  attempt  to  enforce  its 
rule,  however,  and  Billy  and  Sara  went  on  speak- 
ing. 

The  Forum  was  also  insistently  demanding  a 
comprehensive  Investigation  into  the  conduct  of 
school  affairs  in  Bartown  for  years  past,  and 
pointing  out  the  lines  which  such  an  investigation 
should  follow. 


236  CRAYON  CLUE 

It  asked  why  the  practice  followed  by  the 
School  Board  for  more  than  a  generation  of  re- 
quiring a  proviso  in  each  land  lease  for  a  revalu- 
ation every  five  years,  had  been  set  aside  on  a 
specified  date  some  years  before. 

It  printed  a  list  of  prominent  citizens  of  Bar- 
town  who  had  since  appeared  before  the  Board 
either  in  person  or  by  attorney  and  got  their  re- 
valuation clause  stricken  out,  and  asked  why. 

It  asked  if  there  was  anything  in  this  for  the 
Board,  and  if  so  what? 

It  pointed  out  that  the  law  provided  that  the 
annual  rental  of  school  lands  should  be  six  per 
cent,  of  their  valuation. 

It  listed  the  school  lots  remaining  in  Bartown, 
showed  at  what  valuation  per  foot  their  rental 
would  place  them,  and  then  compared  this  with 
the  valuation  at  which  adjacent  lots  were  held  and 
sold. 

It  asked  why  the  ground  rent  of  the  lot  leased 
by  the  Bartown  Blade  from  the  Board  would 
under  the  six  per  cent,  rule  make  its  valuation 
$3,000  a  foot,  while  an  adjacent  lot  had  been 
sold  at  the  time  this  figure  was  fixed  for  $7,000 
a  foot. 

It  printed  a  long  list  of  other  specific  cases 
like  this. 

This  was  Conover's  contribution  to  the  cam- 
paign; the  thing  he  loved  to  unload  upon  an  out- 
raged and  insulted  clientele  of  best  citizens. 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN   POLITICS  237 

But  then,  prompted  thereto  by  Billy,  the  Forum 
asked  an  Investigation  as  to  why  there  were 
42,000  children  of  school  age  in  Bartown  run- 
ning the  streets  because  there  were  no  seats  at 
all  for  them  in  school. 

It  asked  why  14,000  more  of  them  could  re- 
ceive only  half-day  instruction,  because  they  had 
to  give  up  their  seats  to  another  set  of  youngsters 
for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

It  asked  why,  in  view  of  this  fact,  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  rooms  had  been  closed  in  the 
school  buildings  of  Bartown  since  the  preceding 
September. 

It  asked  why  3,000  boys  and  girls  of  school 
age  were  sentenced  to  jail  every  year  in  Bartown. 

It  showed  not  only  graft,  at  which  many  people 
laugh,  but  these  logical  and  unavoidable  results 
of  graft,  at  which  no  one  laughs;  for  Americans 
are  an  extremely  humane  people  at  heart. 

It  demanded  an  investigation  into  the  relations 
of  Superintendent  Dreiser  with  the  Columbian 
Book  and  the  Northwestern  Supply  companies. 

The  Bartown  School  Board,  they  found,  was 
a  pretty  autocratic  body.  Under  the  city  charter 
no  one  had  power  to  Investigate  It  except  itself, 
and  no  one  could  make  it  do  anything  it  didn't 
want  to.  It  had  a  special  tax  of  Its  own,  con- 
trolled by  itself,  so  that  the  Board  of  Estimate 
could  not  bring  It  to  time  by  cutting  down  its 
appropriations.     It  consisted  of  nine  members, 


238  CRAYON   CLUE 

who  elected  their  own  president,  the  latter  voting 
only  when  there  was  a  tie.  Of  these  nine  mem- 
bers three  were  appointed  by  each  new  mayor, 
leaving  on  the  board  three  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed two  years  before,  and  three  who  had  been 
appointed  four  years  before. 

"Even  if  we  win  we  won't  have  a  majority  of 
the  Board,''  said  Billy. 

"The  moral  effect  will  make  it  the  same  as 
a  majority,"  said  Conover  confidently.  "If  we 
win  this  election  they'll  lie  down,  you'll  see. 
Nobody  can  stand  out  in  the  long  run  against 
public  opinion  in  this  country.  The  trouble 
is  nobody  knows  what  public  opinion  is  till 
it  speaks  at  the  polls.  If  you  read  the  Forum 
nowadays  you'd  think  it  was  all  one  way.  But 
if  you  read  the  rest  of  the  great  moral  and 
religious  dailies  of  Bartown  you'd  think  it  was  all 
the  other.  And  I  don't  know  and  they  don't 
know  which  is  backed  by  a  majority  of  the  citi- 
zens. You  are  surrounded  by  friends  and  sympa- 
thizers of  your  way  of  thinking,  and  Dreiser  is 
too ;  and  neither  of  you  has  any  way  of  knowing 
which  has  the  bigger  bunch  till  they  stand  up  to 
be  counted.  These  men  in  the  street;  plumbers 
and  gas-fitters,  and  counter  jumpers,  and  all  the 
two  and  three  thousand  dollar  a  year  crowd  that 
pile  out  to  the  residence  districts  every  night  and 
back  again  in  the  morning — they  haven't  much  to 
do  with  running  this  country,  but  they're  the  jury  I 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN   POLITICS  239 

The  lawyers  yawp  and  the  judge  sits  up  there  and 
looks  wise,  but  nobody  knows  how  those  twelve 
men  over  In  the  jury  box  are  going  to  vote.  And 
that's  the  way  it  is  at  election  time." 

"There  wouldn't  be  any  doubt  about  it  this  time 
if  the  women  were  in  the  jury,"  said  Billy. 

"Oh  no,  I  should  say  not,"  said  Conover;  "it 
would  be  all  our  way  this  year  if  the  women 
could  vote.    Gee,  wouldn't  that  be  a  walk-over!" 

In  fact  the  moral  effect  of  the  crusade  had 
already  borne  fruit.  Miss  Forrest  walked  into 
Billy's  classroom  one  morning,  and  without  speak- 
ing to  her  ordered  the  ten  little  third  graders  to 
pack  their  books  and  stand  up.  When  they  were 
ready  she  marched  them  out  of  the  room  and  did 
not  return. 

At  the  noon  recess  Billy  found  that  the  Third 
Grade  room  downstairs  had  been  reopened,  al- 
though she  was  never  officially  informed  of  that 
fact  by  the  principal.  She  did  a  little  telephoning, 
and  found  that  various  rooms  were  being  reopened 
over  the  city. 

"Well,  that's  that  much  good  accomplished, 
anyway,"  said  she  as  she  rose  from  the  instru- 
ment, to  a  group  of  old  Haswellites  who  stood 
around  her. 

"Due  to  the  power  of  the  great  Miss  Penning- 
ton," said  the  voice  of  the  Spy,  behind  the  group. 
"How  nice  it  must  be  to  control  a  newspaper," 
she  continued;  "it's  so  easy  to  become  famous 


240  CRAYON   CLUE 

when  one  has  a  newspaper  at  one's  disposal  to 
report  all  one's  speeches." 

Billy's  personal  relations  at  old  43  were  not 
very  happy  at  this  time.  The  Spy  never  let  an 
opportunity  pass  to  say  catty  things,  and  Billy 
never  answered  her,  because  it  meant  merely  the 
beginning  of  a  squabble.  Miss  Forrest  never 
spoke  to  her  at  all  any  more,  which  rather  grieved 
Billy.  It  did  not  seem  to  her  that  she  had  de- 
served it,  but  she  reflected  that  the  state  of  mind 
of  the  person  whose  perception  of  justice  far  out- 
runs his  courage  to  stand  up  for  it  is  never  a  pleas- 
ant one.  Brackett  seemed  to  shun  their  building, 
and  for  this  she  was  grateful.  She  met  him  just 
once  after  the  campaign  began,  gumshoeing  along 
the  hall  in  his  usual  way.  He  gave  her  a  look 
which  was  evil  and  unpleasant,  but  Billy  was 
pleased  to  see  that  he  was  no  longer  smiling. 

It  was  impossible  to  keep  her  Sundays  free, 
although  this  was  the  one  thing  her  mother  tried 
to  insist  on.  One  Sunday  morning  a  young  woman 
appeared  when  breakfast  was  scarcely  out  of  the 
way,  and  begged  to  see  Miss  Pennington.  Mrs. 
Pennington  refused,  but  the  girl  begged  so  hard 
that  Billy  herself,  in  her  morning  gown,  came  out 
into  the  hall. 

"Now  Billy,"  said  Mrs.  Pennington,  exas- 
perated, "go  back  there.  What's  the  use  of  my 
trying  to  protect  you  if  you  must  trot  out  the 
minute  anyone  comes?" 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED    IN    POLITICS  24 1 

But  Billy  was  studying  her  visitor  with  sur- 
prise. She  had  not  recognized  either  her  voice 
or  her  name,  but  she  knew  her  by  sight  for  one  of 
the  teachers  appointed  by  Dreiser  during  the  past 
three  years.    She  wondered  if  it  were  another  spy. 

"Oh,  Miss  Pennington,''  pleaded  the  girl, 
"please  see  me.  I  have  something  to  tell  you 
and  I  can't  catch  you  any  time  during  the  week." 

"Come  in,"  said  Billy;  the  girl's  voice  and  face 
impressed  her  as  sincere. 

"Miss  Pennington,"  said  the  visitor,  when  they 
were  seated,  "can't  you  do  anything  to  help  us 
teachers  who  were  appointed  by  Dreiser?" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  said  Billy. 

"I  believe  they're  all  paying  him  a  percentage 
of  their  wages,"  said  the  girl  in  a  low  voice,  giv- 
ing an  involuntary  glance  over  her  shoulder  with 
a  frightened  look.  "I  know  I  am.  When  I  came 
into  the  schools  I  supposed  it  was  a  regular  thing. 
But  after  a  while  I  found  out  that  the  old  teach- 
ers, those  that  were  here  before  Dreiser  came, 
didn't  pay.  It's  only  those  Dreiser  appointed 
himself,  and  I  don't  know  whether  it's  all  of  them 
or  not.  But  I  know  of  three  that  do  besides 
myself." 

"For  mercy's  sake,"  said  Billy  astounded,  "tell 
about  it.     Begin  at  the  beginning." 

The  girl  looked  nervous  and  excited,  and  spoke 
in  the  same  way.     "Pm  so  afraid  he'll  find  out 


242  CRAYON    CLUE 

I've  told/'  said  she;  "I've  wanted  all  winter  to 
tell  you  about  it,  but  I  was  afraid.  But  now  they 
say  he's  afraid  of  you,  and  doesn't  dare  to  fire 
you,  so  perhaps  you  can  help  us.  You  know  there 
are  always  a  lot  more  applicants  for  places  in 
the  schools  than  there  are  positions.  My  folks 
are  poor,  my  father's  just  a  workingman.  They 
made  sacrifices  to  let  me  go  through  the  high 
school  and  training  school.  It  was  a  great  step 
up  for  me  to  be  a  teacher.  After  I  had  gradu- 
ated and  filed  my  application,  I  received  a  noti- 
fication to  call  on  Mr.  Dreiser  on  a  certain  day. 
That's  for  the  personal  part  of  the  requirements, 
you  know.  They  have  to  see  what  kind  of  looking 
and  acting  persons  we  are  before  we  can  get  an 
appointment. 

*'Mr.  Dreiser  had  me  come  in  his  Inside  office 
and  we  sat  and  talked  there  alone.  After  a  while 
he  said,  'If  I  appoint  you  I  shall  expect  a  com- 
mission of  five  dollars  a  month  from  your  salary.' 
I  was  surprised  and  hesitated,  and  he  said,  *If  you 
went  to  an  employment  office  or  teachers'  bureau 
they  would  expect  you  to  pay  them  for  securing 
you  a  position.    This  Is  just  the  same.' 

"Well,  I  saw  that  was  true.  So  I  agreed  to 
pay  him,  and  when  I  got  up  to  go  away  he  said, 
*If  this  becomes  known  you  will  lose  your  posi- 
tion.' He  scared  me,  there's  something  so  cold 
and  awful  about  that  man.  Miss  Pennington.  I've 
been  afraid  ever  since,  and  I've  paid  and  kept  my 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  243 

mouth  shut.  Five  dollars  a  month  he's  had,  and 
I  getting  only  $60;  more  than  eight  per  cent,  of 
my  salary." 

Billy  sat  dumfounded.  This  was  something 
she  had  never  dreamed  of.  She  marvelled  how 
It  could  have  been  kept  so  secret. 

*'How  was  it  paid?"  she  asked.  "Did  you 
send  it  to  him?" 

"No,  it's  collected.  A  man  named  Krog  comes 
around;  a  regular  little  puppy  dog  he  is,  Miss 
Pennington;  just  a  little  puppy  dog  for  Dreiser. 
He  comes  around  every  month  the  day  after  pay 
day  I  and  if  I'm  not  there  I'm  to  leave  It  in  an 
envelope  for  him.  And  I  know  he  goes  to  the 
other  three  I  know  about;  but  whether  there 
are  any  more,  and  whether  he  collects  from  them, 
I  don't  know." 

"How  did  you  know  of  these  three?" 

"Why,  they  were  all  in  my  class  in  training 
school,  and  we  were  friends,  and  so  we've  talked 
It  over  and  told  each  other.  But  we  never  dared 
to  speak  of  it  even  to  each  other  till  this  winter, 
since  you've  been  working  for  the  teachers.  Then 
we  talked  It  over  and  decided  that  I  should  come 
to  you." 

"Will  you  make  an  affidavit  to  this?"  said 
Billy. 

"Oh,  no.  Miss  Pennington,  I  couldn't  let  my 
name  be  used  at  all,"  said  the  girl  in  a  panic. 

Billy  studied  her.    She  was  very  young,  barely 


244  CRAYON   CLUE 

twenty-two.  She  looked  and  spoke  Intelligently 
enough,  she  was  probably  competent  to  teach  the 
small  children  of  her  class;  had  probably  been  a 
fairly  efficient  student  In  the  high  and  training 
schools.  But  Billy  saw  that  there  was  behind  It 
no  experience  or  knowledge  of  the  world,  either 
on  the  part  of  the  girl  herself  or  any  of  her  fam- 
ily. She  surmised  a  background  of  humble  unas- 
sertive poverty,  and  In  the  girl  herself  she  saw  a 
timid,  submissive  feminine  little  creature,  quite 
incapable  of  any  act  requiring  risk  or  danger. 
Dreiser  had  chosen  his  victim  well.  Yet  how 
could  she  blame  the  child,  when  she  remembered 
what  had  happened  to  Kate  Miller  and  Mrs. 
Merrill,  women  of  character,  standing  and  wide 
acquaintance? 

*'No  wonder  he  wants  young  girls  in  the 
schools,"  she  thought.  Aloud  she  said,  ''Does 
your  father  know  this  money  is  paid?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Pennington." 

*'I  wonder  he  would  stand  It,"  said  Billy. 

*'0h.  Miss  Pennington,"  said  the  girl;  "poor 
people  have  to  stand  such  things.  What  could 
we  do  ?  The  only  people  that  can  fight  such  things 
are  those  that  have  a  pull.  My  father  Is  a  team- 
ster. He  gets  only  $io  a  week.  I  earn  more 
than  he  does.  My  mother  is  a  dressmaker.  It*s 
only  because  she  works  for  the  neighbors  that  way 
that  I  could  be  kept  In  school.  And  my  salary 
means  so  much  to  the  family,  even  after  I've  paid 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN   POLITICS  245 

the  five.  I  couldn't  risk  it,  Miss  Pennington;  I 
couldn't  indeed.  But  that  extra  five  would  mean 
a  lot  to  us,  and  it  does  seem  mean  for  Mr.  Dreiser 
to  go  on  taking  it.  I  didn't  mind  so  much  the 
first  year,  because  I  really  would  have  had  to  pay 
a  teachers'  agency,  you  know.  But  I  understand 
Mr.  Dreiser  gets  nine  thousand  a  year,  and  it 
doesn't  seem  fair  for  him  to  go  on  taking  this 
out  of  my  poor  little  six  hundred." 

"Mr.  Dreiser  seems  to  think  these  schools  are 
run  on  the  padrone  system,"  said  Billy;  "he  seems 
to  be  endeavoring  to  acchmate  the  Camorra  upon 
American  soil." 

She  talked  with  the  girl  and  learned  that  the 
other  three  who  were  paying  were  all  young  and 
all  from  poor  famihes  like  herself.  Billy  had 
no  doubt  that  they  would  all  prove  to  be  of  the 
same  type  of  character;  gentle,  submissive,  unas- 
sertive, incapable  of  rebellion  or  defiance.  As  she 
thought  back  over  the  last  two  years  it  seemed  to 
her  that  the  lower  grades  in  the  schools  were 
filling  up  with  girls  of  this  type;  colorless  little 
creatures  who  could  be  depended  on  to  give  no 
trouble.  There  was  one  such  at  43.  Billy  won- 
dered if  she  were  paying. 

She  took  the  names  and  addresses  of  the  visitor 
and  the  three  others,  promised  her  that  none  of 
them  should  be  gotten  into  trouble,  and  that  she 
would  see  what  could  be   done  to  help  them. 


246  CRAYON   CLUE 

Then  she  called  up  Conover  and  asked  him  if  he 
could  take  a  run  over. 

"Fd  have  been  here  before  now,"  answered 
that  youth  promptly,  "if  I  hadn't  understood  your 
mother  to  say  that  anybody  who  came  to  your 
house  on  a  Sunday  would  live  to  be  sorry  for  it.'* 

^'Mother's  all  right,"  said  Billy  laughing,  "but 
some  new  material  has  come  in  that  I  want  to 
consult  you  about.  I  don't  know  what  to  do 
with  it." 

"Don't  say  another  word,"  said  Conover;  "the 
car's  at  the  door.  I'll  be  there  before  you  get 
the  receiver  down." 

"I  don't  know  what  we  can  do,"  she  said,  after 
she  had  laid  the  matter  before  him.  "These  girls 
must  not  be  endangered  in  their  positions,  either 
now  or  at  the  end  of  the  year.  If  we  tell  the 
thing  or  print  it  and  the  authorities  come  back 
at  us,  we  haven't  any  proof." 

"If  you're  positive  it's  a  straight  steer,"  said 
Conover,  "I'll  risk  printing  it  all  right,  and  call- 
ing on  Dreiser  to  stop  it.  He'll  never  peep  if  it's 
true." 

Billy  shook  her  head. 

"If  he's  collecting  from  a  great  many,"  she 
said  slowly,  "he  might  not  be  able  to  tell  who 
had  given  the  thing  away.  But  if  only  a  few 
are  paying,  he  would  know  very  quickly.  And  I 
believe  he  would  find  out  who  told  anyway.  We 
could  let  the  whole  thing  rest,  and  if  we  win 


BILLY  IS   IMMERSED  IN  POLITICS  247 

the  campaign  clean  It  up  with  the  rest,  in  case  we 
are  able  to  make  a  clean  sweep.  But  in  that  case, 
we  couldn't  use  this  material  in  the  campaign,  and 
it's  too  good  to  lose.  And  he  would  go  on  col- 
lecting from  these  poor  kids  for  months  longer." 

Conover  thought  silently  for  a  while  and  then 
reached  for  his  hat. 

"I'll  consult  McMurray,"  said  he,  naming  his 
attorney.  "He's  busily  engaged  these  days  keep- 
ing me  out  of  jail,  and  he  ought  to  show  me  how 
to  get  a  little  hound  like  this  Krog  in.  When 
does  your  ghost  walk?" 

"The  fourth  Saturday  in  the  month." 

"Ah,  then  we  couldn't  catch  him  with  the  goods 
on  till  the  end  of  March.  That  would  give  us 
just  a  week  before  election  to  spring  the  thing  on 
the  public.  But  that  would  be  elegant  new  stuff 
to  ring  in  the  paper  every  day  the  last  week 
before  election." 

Conover  had  hardly  left  the  house  when  the 
bell  rang  again.  This  time  a  conventional  card 
was  brought  in. 

"Well,  I  seem  to  be  holding  a  reception,"  said 
Billy;  "I'll  have  to  adopt  a  morning  levee,  French 
eighteenth  century  style." 

"I  think  you'll  have  to  see  this  woman,"  said 
Mrs.  Pennington  resignedly;  "it's  that  mis- 
sionary." 

Billy  looked  at  the  card  and  saw  a  name 
famous  throughout  the  city,  although  the  woman 


248  CRAYON   CLUE 

who  bore  it  was  known  by  sight  to  few.  She  was 
a  widow  of  means  who,  years  before,  had  deliber- 
ately rented  an  old  house  in  the  slums  and  had 
moved  down  there  to  live.  Information  which 
she  had  laid  before  the  governor  two  years  be- 
fore had  been  the  determining  cause  in  the  ap- 
pointment of  the  commission  to  investigate  the 
white  slave  traffic,  whose  report  was  even  now 
startling  the  whole  state  with  Its  sensational 
revelations. 

"What  can  she  want  with  me?"  said  Billy  won- 
deringly,  and  she  rose  and  hastened  to  the  sitting 
room. 

"Why,  Mrs.  Livingston,"  she  said,  with  hands 
outstretched;  "will  you  pardon  my  informal  ap- 
pearance? I  thought  you  would  prefer  me  to 
come  at  once  rather  than  to  keep  you  waiting 
while  I  dressed." 

"It  Is  for  me  to  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Pen- 
nington," replied  the  other,  "for  breaking  in  upon 
your  one  day  of  rest.  But  there  is  a  phase  of 
this  school  matter  which  I  thought  you  ought  to 
know,  and  there  was  no  other  time  when  I  was 
sure  of  catching  you." 

"I  would  get  out  of  bed  at  midnight  to  hear 
anything  you  had  to  tell  me,"  said  Billy  simply, 
sitting  down  on  a  low  stool  near  the  other. 

She  gazed  up  mith  curiosity  and  Interest  at 
this  remarkable  woman.  Mrs.  Livingston  was 
tall,  erect  and  patrician  to  her  finger  tips.     A 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  249 

great  black  broadcloth  cloak  dropped  from  her 
shoulders  to  her  feet,  with  an  effect  both  of  aus- 
terity and  elegance.  Upon  her  head  she  wore  a 
small  close  bonnet  of  black  crepe,  tied  under  her 
chin  with  soft  wide  ties  of  cream  mull.  There 
was  a  touch  of  the  deaconness  in  this,  although 
she  was  allied  with  no  religious  order.  Her  hair 
was  gray,  and  her  black  eyes  looked  as  if  they 
had  seen  many  and  grievous  things.  An  air  of 
distinction  enveloped  her. 

"Why,  she's  a  howling  swell,"  thought  Billy; 
"how  strange  that  she  should  be  so  successful  with 
those  people.  But  I  guess  that's  the  right  type  to 
get  on  with  them.  A  more  ordinary  sort  of 
person  wouldn't  impress  them." 

Mrs.  Livingston  smiled  down  at  her  small 
hostess. 

"You  look  so  absurdly  youthful.  Miss  Penning- 
ton," said  she.  "I  supposed  it  was  a  rather  mid- 
dle-aged person  who  had  been  stirring  up  such  a 
commotion." 

Her  smile  faded  quickly. 

"There's  a  pubHc  school  down  near  where  I 
live,"  she  continued.  "For  years  it  has  been  a 
great  centre  of  enlightenment  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. We  have  had  some  very  fine  women  down 
there;  they  made  the  school  a  very  civilizing  in- 
fluence." 

"Would  that  be  old  number  10?"  said  Billy. 

"Yes;  the  quarter  is  largely  Italian  now,  and 


250  CRAYON   CLUE 

completely  foreign.  I  understand  that  last  year 
there  were  only  four  pupils  in  the  school  to  whom 
English  was  their  native  language.  Few  of  the 
grown  people  speak  any  English." 

"I  know,"  said  Billy;  "Dr.  Haswell  used  to 
say  that  that  was  one  of  the  most  important 
schools  in  the  city,  and  send  his  strongest  teachers 
there." 

^'Exactly.  The  character  of  the  school  has  been 
changing  ever  since  the  new  administration  came 
in.  There  is  a  man  principal  there  now.  I  under- 
stand that  a  principal  can  have  men  teachers  sent 
him  for  his  grades,  if  he  asks  for  them,  so  far  as 
the  supply  lasts. 

"There  are  still  some  women  teachers  at  10. 
There  are  men  teaching  little  children  seven  and 
eight  years  old  there,  but  still  there  are  women 
teachers  In  the  lower  rooms.  But  in  the  top  story 
there  is  one  entire  floor  given  over  to  seventh  and 
eighth  grade  classes.  It  is  a  mixed  school,  but 
the  boys  and  girls  are  in  separate  classes.  On 
that  entire  floor  there  is  not  a  woman  In  any 
capacity  whatever." 

She  looked  at  Billy,  and  Billy  threw  up  her 
hands  helplessly.  "We  have  women  matrons  in 
police  stations  and  prisons,"  said  the  visitor;  "we 
have  laws  requiring  women  doctors  in  insane  asy- 
lums where  women  are  confined.  Girls  are  placed 
entirely  under  the  charge  of  women  in  reforma- 
tories.   We  even  demand  matrons  in  public  parks 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  25 1 

and  recreation  piers.  I  don't  know  why  this 
whole  floor  full  of  boys  and  girls  at  the  most  sus- 
ceptible age  should  be  left  without  a  woman  of 
any  description;  even  a  secretary;  even  a  scrub- 
woman.'* 

"Who's  the  district  superintendent?"  inquired 
Billy. 

"I  understand  it's  a  man  named  Brackett." 

Billy  sprang  up. 

"So  it  is,"  she  cried;  "I  might  have  known  it 
even  if  I  didn't  remember  it." 

"The  children  there  are  just  before  the  age 
when  they  get  their  working  papers,"  went  on  the 
older  woman.  "They  range  from  twelve  to  four- 
teen. The  girls  are  very  largely  Italian,  and 
they  mature  earlier  and  are  a  good  deal  more 
susceptible  than  American  girls.  Moreover,  the 
children  down  there  despise  their  parents,  a  good 
many  of  them.  They  look  down  on  their  par- 
ents as  'immigrants,'  while  considering  them- 
selves 'Americans.'  And  the  parents,  unac- 
quainted with  the  laws,  language  or  customs  of 
the  country,  are  often  unable  to  guide  or  advise 
their  children  in  any  adequate  manner.  If  there 
is  any  place  in  the  city  where  well-bred  American 
women  are  needed  it  is  on  that  floor.  But  the 
principal  has  said  in  public  that  he  would  prefer 
the  most  incompetent  man  teacher  ever  known  to 
any  woman  teacher." 


252  CRAYON    CLUE 

"I  know,"  said  Billy;  "I  remember  when  he 
said  It." 

"He  Is  of  the  race,"  continued  Mrs.  Livingston, 
"which  I  have  found  furnishing  more  procurers 
for  the  white  slave  traffic  than  any  other.  I  pre- 
sume you  know  what  race  that  Is,  without  my 
telling  you.  And  he  has  only  men  of  his  own 
race  teaching  under  him.  In  fact,  the  men  In  the 
grades  are  very  largely  of  that  race,  and  nearly 
all  of  them  are  of  some  foreign  race.  I  find 
very  few  American  men  In  the  schools  outside  the 
High  School  or  the  superintending  positions. 
And  we  ought  not  to  have  any  foreign  teachers 
at  all  In  the  schools;  at  least  not  one  who  can 
be  distinguished  In  speech  from  the  old  stock. 
The  schools  are  the  only  place  where  thousands 
of  the  foreign  children  can  hear  good  English, 
or  come  In  contact  with  real  Americans.  There 
Is  not  a  man  on  that  floor  who  speaks  English 
without  an  accent,  and  that  alone  should  discharge 
them  from  the  schools.  They  would  not  dare  put 
them  In  the  good  residence  districts." 

"Dr.  Haswell  would  never  let  In  such  men  or 
women,  no  matter  what  brilliant  examinations 
they  passed,"  said  Billy. 

Mrs.  Livingston  began  to  gather  her  wraps 
about  her. 

"These  things  I  know,"  said  she,  with  a  barely 
perceptible  hesitation;  "but  there  are  some  things 
I  don't  know,  that  I  can't  say  anything  about.     I 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN   POLITICS  253 

can  only  suspect.  But  I  do  know  that  that  floor, 
under  present  conditions,  would  be  an  ideal  pro- 
curing ground." 

"Merciful  Heaven  I"  said  Billy. 

"Those  girls  are  worth  $250  a  month,"  said 
Mrs.  Livingston,  "for  a  short  time.  There  Is 
no  other  capacity  in  which  they  are  worth  more 
than  $20  a  month  at  present.  In  that  location, 
with  that  class  of  girls,  the  city  ought  to  be  very 
careful,  very  careful  indeed,  who  it  puts  over 
them." 

Billy  sat  lost  in  thought. 

"Mrs.  Livingston,"  said  she  finally,  "are  you 
willing  to  help  the  campaign?" 

"I  will  do  whatever  you  think  best." 

"Is  your  time  at  our  disposal?" 

"Absolutely." 

"Well,  I  don't  think  a  word  had  better  be  said 
about  this  in  public.  The  Forum  would  be  glad 
to  publish  a  statement  from  you,  but  it  would 
instantly  rouse  race  and  sex  prejudice  and  it  is 
too  extreme.  It  would  rouse  sympathy  for  the 
other  side.  People  would  say  we  were  idea  mad. 
But  I  wish  you  would  go  personally  to  every  set- 
tlement, every  charity  worker,  every  home  mis- 
sionary.   You  know  all  those  people,  don't  you?" 

"Most  of  them." 

"Well,  make  it  your  business  to  see  and  tell 
every  one  of  them  what  you  have  told  me.  It 
will  have  more  effect  coming  from  you  than  from 


254  CRAYON   CLUE 

any  other  person  in  the  city.  And  then  if  you 
have  any  time  left  over,  take  the  ministers  in 
turn;  especially  every  one  whose  church  does  any- 
thing in  the  way  of  institutional  or  home  mission 
work.  The  Salvation  Army  people,  and  the 
American  Volunteers  you  ought  to  see.  You 
know  how  to  do  it;  see  the  leaders  in  every  place 
and  get  them  worked  up;  get  them  nervous  and 
excited  over  it,  if  you  can,  and  impress  it  on  them 
everywhere  to  get  votes,  votes,  votes  for  the 
Citizens  ticket." 

"I  understand,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston  rising; 
"I  won't  take  another  minute  of  your  time.  I  will 
begin  to-morrow  morning  and  keep  it  up  till  elec- 
tion day." 

When  she  had  gone  Billy  said  to  her  mother, 
"Lock  that  door  and  don't  open  it  again  to-day. 
I  can't  keep  this  up  all  day." 

This  was  the  way  material  poured  in  upon  her, 
and  such  the  tales  of  horror  she  told  from  the  plat- 
form, when  they  were  not  too  bad  to  tell. 

A  new  vigor  had  come  into  the  Citizens'  cam- 
paign. The  people  very  rarely  win  any  fight 
against  the  ruling  classes  entirely  by  themselves. 
Often  they  do  not  count  for  very  much  more  in 
the  contest  than  the  slaves  did  in  the  Civil  war. 
A  good  share  of  the  rights  the  people  have  won 
have  fallen  to  them  because  their  rulers  fell  out 
among  themselves,  and  in  the  squabble  the  peo- 
ple grabbed  something.     The  kings,  in  the  days 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  255 

when  the  kings  ruled  personally,  were  prone  to 
grant  rights  to  their  stout  burghers  when  their 
unruly  cousins,  the  nobles,  were  making  them- 
selves  disagreeable. 

Capitalists  finance  nearly  every  anti-capitalist 
fight  In  America,  just  as  the  silver  barons  for  a 
time  financed  the  Populist  party,  which  was  al- 
most entirely  socialistic  In  its  tendencies.  The 
people,  those  of  them  who  are  class  conscious 
and  think  about  it  at  all,  have  an  idea  that  the 
capitalists  always  stand  solidly  together.  They 
do,  except  for  scattering  renegades,  against  So- 
cialism, which  attacks  the  foundations  of  private 
property,  and  thus  affects  them  all  alike.  But  in 
lesser  contests  for  power  there  are  always  divi- 
sions among  them,  caused  by  groups  which  see 
an  opportunity  to  utilize  a  movement  among  the 
people  to  their  own  advantage.  The  whole  cap- 
italistic body  in  any  locality  is  never  profiting  at 
any  one  time  by  the  particular  form  of  graft 
for  whose  scalp  the  people  happen  to  be  out  at 
that  moment. 

The  people  Interested  In  suppressing  child  labor 
in  this  country,  for  instance,  have  found  it  quite 
possible  to  rouse  the  sympathies  of  a  railroad 
magnate  of  humane  tendencies.  He  is  open  to 
conviction,  his  natural  sentiments  have  free  play, 
he  may  contribute  to  the  cause.  Railroads  can- 
not employ  child  labor,  and  the  railroad  magnate 
has  no  such  overwhelming  class  feeling  for  his 


256  CRAYON   CLUE 

brother  factory  magnate  as  to  render  his  stand 
on  the  question  a  foregone  conclusion. 

In  this  Bartown  school  fight  there  was  plenty 
of  that  wealth,  which  the  Socialists  think  is  all 
predatory,  which  was  not  profiting  by  the  school 
graft,  and  was  therefore  open  to  conviction  on  the 
subject.  And  among  the  various  financial  institu- 
tions of  the  city  was  one  which  found  it  desirable 
to  join  the  reformers.  This  was  the  First  Na- 
tional Bank,  which  had  for  many  years  been  the 
depository  of  the  school  funds.  The  School 
Board,  however,  had  a  few  years  before  trans- 
ferred its  account  to  the  Second  National,  which 
had  managed  to  place  and  keep  some  useful 
friends  upon  the  Board. 

These  facts,  of  course,  were  not  mentioned  by 
the  Citizens,  who  welcomed  the  endorsement,  co- 
operation and  contributions  of  the  First  National 
with  joy.  The  action  of  the  First  National  caused 
the  Second  National  to  jump  into  the  ring  with 
haste,  and  the  two  banks  fought  bitterly  through 
the  rest  of  the  campaign.  The  matter  of  the 
school  funds  was  never  mentioned  by  the  papers 
on  either  side.  The  fight  was  made  with  great 
dignity  upon  the  moral  issues  of  the  case,  and  the 
interest  which  these  bankers  and  their  employees 
showed  in  chalk,  drawing  books  and  such  matters, 
was  most  'edifying. 

About  this  time  occurred  the  most  remarkable 
event  of  the  whole  campaign,  to  Billyhs  mind. 


BILLY   IS    IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  257 

The  Central  Presbyterian  Church  Invited  her  to 
occupy  its  pulpit  one  Sunday  morning  in  March. 

She  had  spoken  in  many  churches,  but  the  ma- 
jority of  them  were  small,  poor  churches  of  the 
working  people.  Some  were  prosperous,  well-to- 
do  organizations,  but  not  one  had  been  rich  or 
fashionable.  Also  she  had  spoken  on  week-day 
evenings,  and  usually  at  meetings  of  subsidiary 
organizations  of  the  church.  At  most  she  had 
been  given  the  pulpit  on  a  Sunday  evening  in  some 
small  church.  She  had  been  among  them  enough 
to  know  how  rare  and  unusual  a  thing  it  was  for 
any  pastor  to  give  up  his  Sunday  morning  pulpit 
to  any  but  a  strictly  religious  service,  and  when 
she  found  the  clergyman  at  the  Central  Presby- 
terian warmly  pressing  her  to  take  his  she  could 
hardly  believe  her  ears. 

St.  John  in  the  Wilderness,  the  Episcopal  ca- 
thedral, named  in  the  dark  ages  forty-five  years 
before  when  it  really  stood  in  the  wilderness.  In- 
cluded of  course  the  last  word  In  social  prestige 
In  Its  membership.  Fashion,  excluslveness,  wor- 
shipped at  St.  John's.  But  even  the  cathedral  had 
not  the  solid  wealth  of  the  Central,  which  was 
called  the  millionaire's  church.  Staid  respectabil- 
ity, unbroken  conservatism,  financial  power,  were 
the  hallmarks  of  the  Central. 

Billy  was  more  scared  at  this  prospect  than 
she  had  been  at  the  Hart  theatre  meeting.  With 
a  very  concerned  and  serious  face  she  went  to  the 


258  CRAYON   CLUE 

bookcase  and  took  out  her  little  Bible,  an  act 
which  nearly  threw  Conover,  who  happened  to 
be  present  at  the  moment,  into  internal  convul- 
sions. 

Billy  had  been  raised  on  the  Bible.  She  was 
in  no  wise  unfamiliar  with  it.  She  found  the 
text  she  had  in  mind  very  quickly,  in  the  i8th 
chapter  of  Matthew. 

"Whoso  shall  receive  one  such  litde  child  in  my  name 
receiveth  me. 

"But  whoso  shall  offend  one  of  these  litde  ones  .  .  . 
it  were  better  for  him  that  a  millstone  were  hanged  about 
his  neck,  and  that  he  were  drowned  in  the  depth  of  the 
sea." 

Billy  preached  a  great  sermon  from  that  text. 
She  had  shut  herself  up  to  prepare  it.  It  being 
impossible  to  escape  people  at  home,  she  had  gone 
to  Sara  McPike's,  and  this  Protestant  sermon  had 
been  prepared  in  this  Catholic  household.  The 
McPikes  had  shut  her  into  Sara's  bedroom,  and 
told  her  to  lock  the  door,  and  Billy  had  sat  on 
the  bed  propped  up  against  pillows  and  arranged 
her  thoughts,  jotted  down  heads,  and  declaimed 
softly  to  herself.  She  had  grieved  that  she  had 
no  more  time  to  prepare,  but  she  knew  her  sub- 
ject so  well  that  she  required  only  to  adapt  it 
properly  to  the  occasion.  She  had  speaking  en- 
gagements for  both  afternoon  and  evening,  but 
had  shoved  off  both  on  Sara  herself.  And  Sara 
went  to  Protestant  church  next  morning  to  hear 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN   POLITICS  259 

Billy  preach,  having  previously  fortified  herself 
at  early  mass. 

It  was  a  new  kind  of  audience  to  Billy,  when 
she  rose,  a  slender  black-robed  figure,  and  faced 
the  great,  packed  auditorium;  a  somewhat  terri- 
fying audience.  No  friendly  applause  could  greet 
her  here,  and  there  was  no  little  stir  of  pleased 
interest.  It  was  not  exactly  a  hostile  crowd,  but 
a  strictly  non-committal  one.  A  good  many  were 
not  pleased  at  the  innovation  of  a  political  speech 
in  their  pulpit.  Others  were  somewhat  scandal- 
ized at  seeing  a  woman  there,  and  a  woman  who 
taught  in  their  own  public  schools,  who  had 
neither  wealth  nor  social  position.  They  would 
have  pardoned  this  in  a  woman  who  had  been  a 
church  missionary,  or  a  worker  of  national  repute 
in  some  great  movement.  But  a  Bartown  girl 
who  had  merely  come  into  more  or  less  news- 
paper prominence  in  the  course  of  a  squabble  over 
school  politics — only  the  endorsement  of  the  pas- 
tor made  it  permissible. 

Billy  felt  the  deadly  reserve  of  the  audience. 
But  her  recent  experience  came  to  her  aid.  She 
had  found  that  no  matter  where  she  spoke  she 
got  a  response;  that  some  in  the  audience  were 
friendly;  that  she  made  some  converts,  that  some 
were  roused  to  thought  and  action.  She  had 
found  this  particularly  in  the  churches;  and  she 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  instincts  of 
the  mass  of  church  people  are  naturally  good, 


260  CRAYON    CLUE 

and  that  the  churches  should  be  the  chief  source 
of  sympathy  and  aid  for  reform  movements. 

She  began  with  courage,  therefore,  and  before 
long,  as  usual,  she  began  to  get  her  response. 
The  applause  which  usually  indicated  it  was  nec- 
essarily lacking,  but  she  felt  it  nevertheless.  And 
the  impromptu  reception  which  followed  at  all  her 
meetings,  when  people  surged  forward  to  meet 
and  speak  with  her,  had  never  been  larger  than 
on  this  occasion.  She  stood  beside  the  minister 
down  in  front  of  the  rostrum  after  the  service, 
and  the  people  poured  by  In  a  great  throng,  stop- 
ping to  speak  and  shake  hands.  Sara's  smiling 
face  drifted  by  in  the  tide,  and  as  she  floated  past 
she  breathed,  *'It's  all  right,  partner."  Mrs. 
Courtney,  who  had  deserted  the  Episcopalians  for 
the  day,  with  beaming  face  presented  friends 
whom  she  had  found  in  the  audience.  And  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  crowd  Billy  marked  Conover's 
dancing  eye,  telegraphing  electric  signals  of  joy 
and  amusement  to  her  above  the  heads  over  which 
his  own  towered. 

He  had  beside  him  a  young  woman  whose 
clothes  had  a  subtle  touch  which  was  not  Bar- 
tonian;  whom  he  made  known,  when  they  finally 
reached  Billy,  as  a  married  cousin  recently  re- 
turned from  a  prolonged  residence  In  Europe. 
This,  lady,  who  seemed  a  very  able  young  person, 
carried  off  Miss  Pennington  and  Mr.  Conover  to 


BILLY   IS   IMMERSED   IN    POLITICS  26 1 

dinner,  In  a  neat  little  electric  coupe,  driven  by  her- 
self, which  had  violets  in  the  flower  holder. 

There  were  two  other  guests  at  dinner,  both 
men,  and  Mrs.  Wyndham  was  able  to  entertain 
them  all.  She  kept  the  ball  of  conversation  tos- 
sing with  that  light  and  dainty  touch  of  which 
she  was  mistress,  and  Billy  did  not  have  to  talk 
much,  for  which  she  was  thankful.  The  cam- 
paign was  a  leading  topic  of  conversation,  but 
Conover  wagged  an  able  tongue,  so  that  she  did 
not  have  to  repeat  her  speech  In  answer  to  ques- 
tions; one  of  the  most  exhausting  things  that  a 
speaker  can  suffer. 

After  dinner  she  had  a  few  minutes  alone  with 
Conover  In  the  library. 

"The  thing  that  pleased  me  most  about  this," 
said  she  earnestly,  "is  the  way  the  moral  sense 
of  the  community  has  been  aroused.  Don't  you 
think  it  was  wonderful  that  that  great,  rich,  con- 
servative church  should  have  felt  the  importance 
of  the  cause  sufficiently  to  ask  me  to  speak?" 

The  dancing  light  in  Conover's  blue  eyes  grew 
impish.  "Oh,  Billy,  Billy,  you  innocent  kid," 
said  he. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  demanded. 

"Why,  don't  you  know  that  Rufus  Peters,  presi- 
dent of  the  First  National,  is  the  high  muckymuck 
at  the  Central?"  said  he.  "Rufus  is  deacon  or 
elder  or  something  there.  Rufus  recently  signed 
a  check  for  $25,000  for  a  new  parsonage.    You 


262  CRAYON   CLUE 

wouldn't  expect  the  parson  to  refuse  him  a  little 
thing  like  this  after  that,  would  you?" 

Billy  turned  a  grieved  face  upon  him,  and  said 
not  a  word.  The  mocking  light  died  in  Conover's 
sparkling  orbs. 

"Oh,  Billy,"  he  said,  leaning  towards  her  and 
speaking  seriously,  "don't  feel  bad.  It  does  hurt 
you  so  to  lose  Illusions.  Why,  my  dear  girl,  that's 
the  way  things  get  done,  and  reforms  get  accom- 
plished. It  Isn't  always  profitable  for  people  to 
be  bad.  It  Is  often  profitable  for  them  to  be 
good.  When  we  get  the  world  fixed  so  It  will  be 
profitable  for  them  to  be  good  all  the  time,  people 
won't  have  to  wear  themselves  out  over  such 
campaigns  as  you  are  waging  now.  You  made  It 
profitable  for  the  president  of  the  First  National 
to  help  a  good  cause  along,  and  he  helped  it." 

"I  don't  see  that  I  had  much  to  do  with  it," 
said  Billy. 

"You  started  It,  didn't  you?"  said  Conover. 
"And  then  old  Rufe  went  down  to  hear  you  speak 
at  that  Citizens'  rally  last  Wednesday  night.  He 
couldn't  get  a  seat,  and  he  stood  back  by  the  door 
clear  through  your  speech,  with  his  hat  and  cane 
in  his  hand,  and  those  white  side  whiskers  and 
that  solemn  Presbyterian  mug  of  his  In  bold  relief 
among  the  surrounding  canaille.  If  he  hadn't 
satisfied  himself  that  you  were  a  proper  young 
person  to  speak  in  the  Presbyterian  church  you 
can  bet  you  wouldn't  have  got  there.     And  you 


BILLY  IS   IMMERSED  IN   POLITICS  263 

may  be  sure  that  under  no  circumstances  would 
you  have  been  asked  If  you  hadn't  had  a  moral 
Issue  to  present.  You  can  bet  your  life  that  the 
Second  National  won't  open  up  any  church  pulpit 
to  Dreiser.  The  protection  of  the  crooks  Is  non- 
publlclty.  It's  only  the  decent  people  that  can 
seek  the  fierce  light." 

*'It  makes  It  all  so  sordid,"  said  Billy,  for- 
lornly. 

"Why,  Billy,"  said  Conover,  "you  can't  expect 
that  any  great  number  are  going  to  sacrifice  any- 
thing for  the  pubhc  good.  Only  a  small,  picked 
fraction  will  do  that  at  any  time.  Not  one  In  a 
thousand  will  risk  a  job  as  you  have  done  In  this 
campaign.  That's  the  great  thing  that's  given 
you  your  power.  When  you  see  people  putting 
up  a  lot  of  money  and  hard  work  for  a  cause,  you 
may  usually  calculate  that  there's  something  In  It 
for  them;  but  that  doesn't  necessarily  make  the 
cause  bad,  nor  their  act  bad." 

"Then  what  are  you  after?"  said  Billy. 

The  long  black  lashes  dropped  over  Conover's 
blue  eyes,  and  that  fascinating.  Impish  smile 
curved  his  lips  In  an  Intimate  way.  "I'm  going 
to  get  something  out  of  It,"  said  he;  "you  can  bet 
your  boots  on  that." 

After  this  revelation,  when  Mrs.  Jimmy  Wynd- 
ham  gave  an  evening  "drawing-room  meeting," 
at  which  Bill  was  invited  to  explain  the  issues  of 
the  campaign  to  the  men  and  women  of  the  local 


264  CRAYON   CLUE 

smart  set,  she  of  course  saw  Conover*s  fairy 
hand  In  the  event. 

But  she  did  not  know  that  that  reception  was 
as  much  for  her  sake  as  for  the  campaign.  And 
she  did  not  know  that  Conover  had  got  his  cousin, 
who  was  his  nearest  and  smartest  female  rela- 
tive, over  from  Paris  solely  to  give  that  reception. 
And  Mrs.  Jimmy  didn't  know  it  either. 


CHAPTER   XIII 
In  Which  Billy  Sees  Trouble 

BILLY  ?"  said  Mrs.  Pennington's  voice  from 
her  bedroom. 

"Yes,"  said  Billy,  adjusting  the  night  lock, 
"where  are  the  girls?" 

"Edith's  gone  to  bed,"  said  her  mother; 
"Ethel's  with  you,  isn't  she?" 

"No,"  said  Billy  tranquilly,  "I  haven't  seen 
Ethel  since  morning." 

Mrs.  Pennington  appeared  at  the  door  of  her 
room,  not  yet  frightened,  merely  surprised. 

"Why,  she  left  after  dinner  to  go  to  your  meet- 
ing," she  said,  "saying  she  would  come  home  with 
you  in  the  car." 

Billy  had  dined  with  Sara  that  night,  and  they 
had  gone  off  to  an  evening  meeting  together 
afterward. 

"She  never  came,"  said  Billy;  "I  haven't  seen 
her  since  breakfast." 

Mrs.  Pennington  began  to  look  frightened. 

"Then  where  can  she  be?"  she  said. 

Ethel  was  not  like  Billy,  with  a  host  of  friends 
upon  any  one  of  whom  she  might  have  descended 

265 


266  CRAYON   CLUE 

unexpectedly  to  spend  the  evening  or  even  pass 
the  night.  She  was  a  quiet,  somewhat  shy  girl, 
whose  life  was  spent  between  her  office  and  her 
home.  Casting  their  minds  over  her  circle  of  ac- 
quaintances they  could  think  of  only  two  or  three 
to  whom  she  might  have  gone  without  invitation 
or  previous  plan,  and  even  these  were  primarily 
Billy's  friends,  and  not  her  own. 

Billy  hastened  to  the  telephone  and  called  them 
up,  one  after  another,  although  with  a  strange 
sinking  of  the  heart,  for  it  was  not  like  Ethel  to 
do  anything  of  this  kind.  No  unexpected  change 
of  plans  on  her  own  part  would  surprise  any- 
body, but  she  could  not  remember  that  Ethel  had 
ever  done  a  thing  like  this  before  in  her  life. 

No  one  whom  she  called  had  seen  or  heard  of 
Ethel.  She  could  have  kept  it  up  and  called  every 
friend  and  acquaintance  of  the  family  who  pos- 
sessed a  telephone,  but  it  impressed  her  as 
absurd. 

"She  has  been  hit  by  an  automobile!"  cried 
Mrs.  Pennington;  "she  is  lying  senseless  at  some 
hospital  I" 

"Fm  afraid  so,"  said  Billy;  "it's  either  that  or 
some  perfectly  simple  thing.  It's  possible  that 
she  met  some  friend  on  the  street  and  went  off 
to  the  theatre.  In  that  case  she'll  be  back  in  a 
few  minutes." 

"Nonsense,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Pennington; 
theatre  engagements  don't  happen  along  on  the 


BILLY   SEES   TROUBLE  267 

Street  half  an  hour  before  the  curtain  goes  up. 
She's  been  hit  by  an  automobile." 

With  trembling  fingers  Billy  sought  the  number 
of  the  police  headquarters,  then  hesitated  when 
she  had  found  it  and  said  to  her  mother,  "Had 
we  better?" 

"Why  not?"  demanded  Mrs.  Pennington. 

"She  may  come  walking  in  here  any  minute,  or 
the  explanation  may  be  perfectly  simple.  Then 
any  publicity  would  be  horrid  for  her." 

"But  she  may  lie  dying  this  minute  at  some 
hospital,"  cried  Mrs.  Pennington,  "unable  to  tell 
who  she  is,  and  I  may  never  see  her  alive  again  if 
we  don't  hurry." 

Thus  adjured  Billy's  hand  sought  the  instru- 
ment, but  still  wavering,  as  if  by  itself  it  were 
trying  to  combat  her  resolution.  Vaguely  she 
sensed  danger.  She  gave  Conover's  number  in- 
stead of  that  of  the  headquarters.  She  caught 
him  in  his  office  at  the  Forum,  just  on  the  point 
of  leaving,  and  he  came  tearing  up  in  the  car. 
He  understood  instantly  her  half  formulated 
fears  of  notifying  the  police. 

"No,  no,"  he  said,  "don't  put  them  on  till  we 
have  to.  It  doesn't  do  a  young  girl  any  good  to 
have  it  known  she's  disappeared  from  home. 
We'll  go  to  Bram's.  They're  the  best  private  de- 
tective agency  in  town.  Get  ready  and  come  with 
me,  Mrs.  Pennington,  and  bring  Ethel's  photo- 
graph.    You  too,  Miss  Edith,  you  talked  with 


268  CRAYON   CLUE 

Ethel  before  she  left.  Billy,  do  you  stay  here. 
Let's  not  connect  your  name  with  this  unless  we 
have  to.  And  someone  must  be  here  in  case  she 
comes  walking  in.  Cheer  up,  Mrs.  Pennington, 
she  may  be  here  when  we  get  back.'* 

The  minutes  crawled  like  hours,  but  at  last  they 
returned. 

''She  isn't  at  any  of  the  hospitals,"  said  Con- 
over  gravely.  "They  covered  them  all  from 
Bram's  by  phone  while  we  were  there,  without 
giving  her  name.  No  young  woman  of  any  de- 
scription has  been  brought  in  at  any  one  of  them 
since  7.30,  when  Ethel  left.  They  will  notify 
Bram's  instantly  if  one  is  brought  in.  I  have  got 
every  available  man  they  have  on  the  case.  They 
are  out  covering  the  depots  now  and  the  places 
where  it  is  likely  such  a  girl  might  have  been 
taken." 

There  was  no  sleep  for  the  stricken  family 
that  night,  and  they  practically  lived  without  any 
for  three  days  and  nights.  Billy  could  not  go  to 
school  next  day,  nor  could  she  keep  her  speaking 
engagement  that  evening.  She  sent  word  that  she 
was  ill  and  arranged  for  substitutes  to  be  put  in 
her  place.  When  word  went  out  that  she  was 
sick,  the  rush  to  the  house  and  constant  telephone 
inquiries  for  her,  all  of  which  had  to  be  answered 
with  lies,  became  maddening. 

In  addition  to  the  suffering  of  agonized  sus- 
pense there  came  upon  Billy  now  that  fear  from 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  269 

which  she  had  been  free  hitherto,  from  which 
Ethel  had  protected  her;  the  fear  of  being  left 
without  funds.  Ethel's  salary  had  stopped.  They 
had  called  up  from  her  office  to  inquire  if  she 
were  ill,  had  been  told  that  she  was,  and  that 
they  would  be  notified  when  she  was  able  to  re- 
turn. The  family  had  no  means  of  knowing  how 
long  her  position  would  be  retained  for  her. 
There  was  pressing  need  for  immediate  and  un- 
usual expenditures.  Billy's  own  salary  must  not 
stop.  Suddenly  her  position,  which  she  had  risked 
so  debonairly,  became  of  dire  importance.  It 
must  not  be  lost. 

So  Billy  staggered  off  to  school,  white  and  hag- 
gard, on  the  third  day,  but  was  unable  to  finish 
the  session.  The  anxiety  was  killing  her.  She 
saw  nervous  breakdown,  despair  and  desperation 
ahead  of  her,  and  she  could  not  help  it  or  control 
herself.  Her  mental  anguish  was  too  great.  In 
the  midst  of  it  came  just  one  lightening. 

There  was  a  business  meeting  of  the  Teachers' 
Association  scheduled  for  that  day  after  school, 
and  Billy  was  on  the  programme  for  the  presenta- 
tion of  various  important  matters.  She  sent  Sara 
instead.  Sara,  her  blue  Irish  eyes  misty  with  the 
warmth  of  the  heart  within  her,  made  the  speech 
of  her  life.  She  told  the  meeting  that  Billy  was 
breaking  down,  as  might  have  been  expected,  and 
would  be  unable  to  keep  up  her  campaign  work 
and  her  school  also. 


270  CRAYON   CLUE 

There  were  three  thousand  teachers  In  the  As- 
sociation now.  Excitement  over  the  campaign 
was  at  fever  heat.  They  had  seen  the  rooms  re- 
opened, relieving  many  of  them  from  brutal  over- 
work and  annoyance.  They  knew  that  the  pub- 
licity and  public  sentiment  which  had  compelled 
this  were  due  to  Billy  Pennington  and  no  one 
else.  With  the  winning  of  the  Citizens  they  saw 
Dreiser  discharged,  another  Haswell  in  his  place, 
and  the  chalk,  the  abominable  chalk,  removed 
from  their  rooms.  They  were  frightened  at  the 
thought  of  Billy  dropping  out  of  the  campaign  at 
this  critical  stage.  They  did  what  no  other  teach- 
ers' association  in  America  had  ever  done  at  that 
time,  although  others  have  followed  the  example 
since.  They  appointed  Billy  Pennington  Business 
Agent  of  the  Association,  to  devote  her  entire 
time  to  looking  after  its  interests;  and  voted  her  a 
salary  of  $1,200  a  year. 

When  Sara  made  Billy  understand  this,  she 
burst  into  tears,  the  first  since  the  disappearance 
of  Ethel. 

"Oh,  Sara,''  said  she,  "thank  God  for  that  re- 
lief. I  won't  have  to  go  back  into  that  school- 
room with  this  awful  thing  upon  me.  Sara,  what 
have  I  done  to  have  such  friends  as  you?" 

"My  poor  kid,"  said  Sara,  "what  have  you 
done  to  have  the  trouble  that's  come  to  you?  Ah, 
Billy,  dear,  I'm  saying  an  Ave  to  the  Virgin  every 


BILLY   SEES   TROUBLE  27 1 

minute  in  my  heart  for  the  return  of  Ethel.  She 
has  the  heart  of  a  Mother.     She  cannot  refuse." 

That  was  the  evening  of  the  third  day.  Billy 
telephoned  her  resignation  to  the  superintendent's 
office  the  next  morning,  and  notified  them  to  send 
a  substitute  to  her  room.  She  had  not  supposed 
that  anything  would  give  her  a  sensation  of  re- 
lief, but  she  found  that  the  certainty  of  an  income, 
for  the  next  few  months  at  any  rate,  and  the 
fact  that  she  could  have  a  few  days'  rest  from 
all  outside  duties,  with  the  word  gone  out  that 
she  was  to  be  left  undisturbed  lifted  her  out  of 
her  half-crazed  condition.  It  allowed  her  to  give 
her  thoughts  to  the  problem  which  confronted 
them,  without  other  anxieties  to  madden  her. 

The  utter  silence  was  the  most  terrifying  fea- 
ture of  the  affair.  Not  a  clue,  not  a  suggestion 
had  arisen.  One  thing  only  seemed  certain. 
Ethel  was  not  dead  or  injured.  Neither  morgue, 
hospital  nor  police  station  had  received  her.  It 
was  unthinkable  that,  if  she  had  been  suddenly 
stricken  down  in  some  way  that  prevented  com- 
munication with  the  family  and  rescued  by  pri- 
vate parties,  the  latter  would  not  have  notified  the 
police.  If  some  fiend  had  murdered  her  where 
was  the  body?  It  is  one  of  the  most  impossible 
things  in  the  world  to  conceal  a  human  body. 
This  horrible  possibility  of  course  existed,  but 
pending  the  discovery  of  her  person,  dead  or 
alive,  the  two  alternatives  confronted  them  that 


272  CRAYON    CLUE 

Ethel  was  either  held  a  captive,  or  had  gone 
away  of  her  own  accord. 

It  was  the  attitude  of  the  agency  on  this  point 
that  prompted  Billy  more  than  anything  else  to 
continue  the  secrecy  which  had  been  maintained 
in  the  affair.  The  men  there  hardly  tried  to  con- 
ceal their  belief  that  Ethel  had  vanished  pur- 
posely. They  pointed  out  that  she  had  left  home 
at  half  past  seven  in  the  evening.  Had  she  gone 
where  she  said  she  was  going,  to  her  sister's  meet- 
ing, half  an  hour's  travel  in  the  most  common- 
place of  street  cars  along  brilliantly  lighted  streets 
would  have  sufficed  to  take  her  to  the  hall.  Dur- 
ing that  brief  half  hour,  early  in  the  evening,  amid 
streets  full  of  people,  she  was  kidnapped  if  kid- 
napped she  had  been.  She  was  a  tall,  well-built, 
intelligent  woman  of  twenty-four,  accustomed  to 
going  alone  about  the  big  city  where  she  had 
lived  all  her  life.  The  detectives  shrugged  their 
shoulders  at  a  kidnapping  theory. 

Inquiry  at  the  street  car  barn  had  revealed  the 
particular  cars  which  must  have  been  near  Ethel's 
corner  at  the  time  she  had  boarded  one  that 
evening.  The  conductor  of  each  had  been  found, 
and  Ethel's  picture  submitted  to  them.  Not  one 
remembered  seeing  her  that  evening.  One  knew 
her  well  by  sight,  as  she  often  travelled  on  his 
car  coming  home  from  the  office,  but  he  had  not 
noticed  her  that  evening.  He  was  sure  that  he 
would  have  done  so  had  she  boarded  his  car. 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  273 

The  point  at  which  the  girl  must  have  trans- 
ferred, had  she  gone  to  the  meeting,  was  the 
corner  of  Hickox  and  L  streets.  There  was  usu- 
ally a  rather  long  wait  there.  Passengers  using 
that  transfer  often  stepped  into  a  drugstore  on 
the  corner,  or  stood  in  the  covered  doorway,  es- 
pecially in  bad  weather.  The  detective  had  taken 
the  photograph  to  the  drugstore,  but  none  of 
the  men  there  recognized  it,  or  could  recall  having 
seen  anyone  resembling  it. 

"Of  course,"  remarked  the  man  who  was  mak- 
ing the  report,  "if  the  matter  were  given  news- 
paper publicity,  and  her  picture  printed,  persons 
who  had  transferred  from  that  same  car,  might 
come  forward  and  report  seeing  her  on  the  cor- 
ner that  night.  They  might  tell  what  she  had 
done  and  where  she  had  gone.  It's  very  unlikely 
that  she  went  on  from  that  point  on  the  street  car. 
Cars  on  that  line  are  not  crowded  at  that  point, 
and  there  are  not  many  of  them.  We  have  found 
the  one  which  she  must  have  taken  if  she  left 
home  at  seven  thirty  and  went  directly  there. 
The  conductor  remembers  perfectly  well  who  got 
on  at  that  corner  that  trip.  There  were  only  four 
persons,  and  he  remembers  them  all." 

"Of  course,"  he  continued,  after  another  pause, 
"if  she  really  started  for  the  meeting,  as  she  said 
she  was  going  to  when  she  left  the  house,  there 
were  just  three  points  at  which  she  could  have 
been  kidnapped;  down  here  at  your  own  corner, 


274  CRAYON   CLUE 

before  the  car  came  along;  at  the  transfer  point, 
and  at  the  corner  where  she  finally  got  off. 

"She  would  have  arrived  at  her  terminal  cor- 
ner just  after  eight  o'clock.  The  street  car  office 
reckons  that  37  minutes  would  be  schedule  time 
from  her  home  to  that  point,  and  we  have  looked 
up  the  time  cards  and  found  there  was  no  block, 
breakdown,  or  unusual  delay  of  any  kind  on  the 
lines  she  employed  that  night.  She  would  de- 
scend from  the  car  then  at  exactly  the  time  the 
people  would  be  pouring  into  the  meeting,  and  she 
would  alight  exactly  in  front  of  the  hall.  It  is 
impossible  that  she  should  have  been  kidnapped 
there. 

*'The  corner  near  your  home  is  a  corner  of 
little  shops.  They  are  all  up  and  down  both 
sides  of  the  street,  there  are  plenty  of  people 
about,  and  it  is  a  neighborhood  where  she  is 
known  by  sight.  You  can't  tell  me  she  was  kid- 
napped there. 

*'There  remains  the  transfer  point,  at  Hickox 
and  L.  That's  a  residence  district;  on  three  cor- 
ners there  are  large  houses  standing  back  from 
the  street  in  grounds  of  their  own  and  there  are 
not  many  people  about  there.  But  the  very  place 
where  she  would  go  to  get  her  car  would  be  right 
in  front  of  the  drugstore,  with  its  big  windows  and 
bright  lights,  on  the  fourth  corner.  It  is  impos- 
sible that  any  struggle,  at  any  rate,  could  have 


BILLY   SEES   TROUBLE  275 

occurred  there  without  attracting  the  attention  of 
the  drugstore  people." 

Billy  had  a  flash  of  vision. 

*'But  there  wasn't  any  struggle,"  said  she;  "they 
told  her  something." 

"Told  her  something?"  said  the  detective. 

"Yes,"  said  Billy  slowly,  "and  it  was  some- 
thing about  me.  You  see — mother  and  Edith 
were  at  home — she  knew — that  they  were  all 
right.     It  must  have  been  something  about  me." 

"It  might  have  been  done  that  way,  of  course," 
admitted  the  detective. 

But  she  could  see  that  he  was  sceptical.  All 
people  who  deal  with  crime  grow  used  to  seeing 
the  great  mass  of  it  take  place  along  certain 
stereotyped  lines,  and  for  certain  stereotyped  rea- 
sons. They  grow  sceptical  concerning  the  unu- 
sual or  bizarre.  The  head  of  the  agency  had 
known  a  good  many  missing  girls  who  were  found 
to  have  gone  away  voluntarily,  even  when  their 
lives  seemed  as  much  an  open  book  as  Ethel  Pen- 
nington's. When  a  girl  goes  in  that  way  it  is 
because  the  man  is  married,  and  no  girl  reveals  an 
affair  with  a  married  man  to  her  family. 

He  admitted  Instantly  that  kidnapping  girls 
for  the  white  slave  traffic  went  on,  although  such 
cases  did  not  come  his  way,  the  parents  of  such 
girls  being  unable  to  employ  private  detectives. 
But  none  of  that  gentry  would  touch  a  girl  of  the 
caliber  of  Ethel  Pennington.    She  was  known,  she 


276  CRAYON   CLUE 

had  friends,  her  very  aspect  and  age  were  enough 
to  protect  her.  The  girls  dealt  with  by  this  trade 
were  little  foolish  Ignorant  girls  of  14  or  16,  who 
were  enticed  into  a  room  and  locked  in,  or  fooled 
by  a  pretended  marriage,  or  who  drank  with 
strangers,  or  something  of  that  kind.  Kidnapping 
for  ransom  was  of  course  absurd,  in  view  of  the 
modest  circumstances  of  the  family.  The  detec- 
tive had  in  fact  cast  a  private  thought  in  this  direc- 
tion when  he  knew  who  Conover  was,  but  decided 
immediately  that  if  anyone  was  after  a  big  ran- 
som from  him  they  would  have  taken  the  older 
sister  instead  of  the  younger. 

And  all  the  time  these  conjectures  were  under 
review  Billy's  mind  was  saying  to  her:  "This  is 
what  they  have  done  to  me.  This  is  what  they 
have  done  to  me.  They  kicked  out  Mrs.  Merrill, 
they  smirched  Miss  Harcourt,  they  smirched  Kate 
Miller,  and  this  is  what  they  have  done  to  me." 

The  head  of  the  agency  simply  waved  any 
suspicions  of  Dreiser  aside  as  puerile. 

*'What  could  he  gain  by  it?'*  was  his  one  unan- 
swerable reply.  "She  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
campaign.  That  goes  right  on.  And  when  he  is 
discovered,  as  he  would  have  to  be  In  time,  for  a 
man  cannot  keep  a  woman  imprisoned  indefinitely 
— it  would  ruin  him  for  life." 

Below  and  beyond  this  logical  view  of  the  case 
was  an  utter  contempt  for  the  idea  which  was 
constitutional  and  temperamental.     He  knew  of 


BILLY   SEES   TROUBLE  277 

course  about  the  hotly  fought  campaign  that  was 
going  on  about  him,  but  he  could  not  conceive  that 
any  woman  could  be  of  real  importance  in  it.  As 
for  their  doing  such  a  risky  thing  to  punish  or  re- 
venge themselves  on  this  little  teacher,  he  re- 
garded the  idea  as  silly.  They  might  discharge 
her,  perhaps,  and  he  privately  considered  that 
she  ought  to  be  discharged  in  the  maintenance  of 
discipline;  but  anything  more  he  considered  mere 
melodrama,  emanating  from  a  hysterical  girl. 
Even  Conover's  credence  of  this  theory  had  no 
effect  upon  him,  for  he  privately  believed  Conover 
to  be  in  love  with  the  girl,  and  therefore  not 
accountable. 

No;  the  detective^s  own  theory  was  far  dif- 
ferent. Ethel's  life  had  been  simple  and  quiet, 
but  there  was  one  place  where  she  came  into  daily 
contact  with  a  large  number  of  men:  her  office. 
Some  of  these  men  were  highly  paid  employees, 
married  men  living  in  good  style.  He  had  kfiown 
an  occasional  office  girl  to  graduate  to  a  second 
establishment  set  up  by  such  a  man.  His  idea 
was  to  investigate  and  trail  every  such  man  in  the 
office,  and  find  out  all  about  his  private  life;  a 
somewhat  lengthy  and  expensive  job.  Billy  ab- 
ruptly refused,  because  she  knew  the  idea  was  an 
absurdity,  and  came  away  from  the  interview  de- 
spairing of  any  clue. 

Billy  knew  that  Ethel  had  not  gone  away  volun- 
tarily, because  she  knew  Ethel.    She  knew  that  no 


278  CRAYON    CLUE 

consideration  whatever  would  keep  Ethel  from 
relieving  the  anxiety  of  her  family  if  she  were 
free  to  post  a  letter.  Billy  knew  this,  the  family 
knew  it,  a  few  of  their  most  intimate  friends 
knew  it.  But  no  one  else  would  know  it.  The 
attitude  of  the  very  men  they  were  employing 
showed  that.  She  saw  the  interpretation  that  the 
public  generally  would  put  upon  the  facts  the 
moment  they  became  known. 

She  saw  the  story  spread  over  the  front  pages 
of  the  newspapers.  She  saw  her  own  prominence 
used  to  give  it  piquancy;  every  detail  of  her  par- 
ticipation in  the  campaign  dragged  in  to  make  the 
story  sensational.  Had  the  entire  family  been  as 
unknown  as  Ethel  herself,  reasonable  space  and 
a  lenient  or  indifferent  interpretation  of  the  facts 
might  have  been  possible.  But  with  the  campaign 
at  its  height  and  her  own  name  in  the  mouth  of 
every  politician  in  the  city,  she  saw  the  story 
that  the  papers  would  make. 

Every  daily  in  the  city  was  against  her  except 
the  Forum.  They  had  said  nothing  against  her 
personally,  because  there  had  been  nothing  they 
could  say.  She  knew  how  they  would  gloat  over 
this  chance  to  represent  a  scandal  in  the  family; 
how  carefully  the  non-libellous  slurs  would  be 
slung  at  Ethel,  with  "alleged,"  and  "said  to  be,'' 
and  quotations  from  the  opinions  of  the  police. 

The  whole  police  force  of  the  city  was  against 
the  Citizens,  and  working  for  the  present  mayor, 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  279 

under  whom  the  chief  held  his  appointment.  She 
saw  how  instantly  they  would  echo  the  opinion 
of  the  agency.  She  doubted  if  they  would  render 
any  aid  in  the  search;  if  all  the  power  of  the 
Forum  could  prod  them  to  action. 

The  scandal  would  be  enough  to  wreck  the  cam- 
paign. Three  words  uttered  in  public  once  de- 
feated a  candidate  for  president  of  the  United 
States.  She  was  a  marked  figure.  She  stood  in 
a  peculiar  way  for  the  moral  issues  of  the  cam- 
paign. Let  even  a  hint  be  given  to  the  public 
that  her  family  was  the  sort  of  one  from  which 
a  daughter  could  run  away  with  a  married  man, 
and  it  was  enough  to  turn  any  narrow  margin  of 
victory  which  the  Citizens  Party  might  have 
against  it. 

Billy  was  not  balancing  the  campaign  against 
Ethel.  She  was  ready  to  sacrifice  the  campaign 
to  save  Ethel.  The  campaign  could  be  fought 
in  other  years.  The  public  weal  might  demand 
her  toil  and  services,  but  not  the  sacrifice  of  her 
sister.  But  she  was  trying  to  balance  the  virtues 
and  evils  of  publicity.  Had  she  any  right  to  re- 
fuse to  offer  a  reward  and  to  let  the  story  go  to 
the  newspapers,  in  view  of  the  possibility  that 
these  two  acts  might  bring  Information  of  her 
sister? 

Had  she,  on  the  other  hand,  any  right  to  deal 
Ethel,  who  might  return  at  any  moment,  such  a 
moral  and  social  blow  as  this  publicity  would  be  ? 


28o  CRAYON   CLUE 

Had  she  any  right  to  sacrifice  the  campaign, 
which  meant  so  much  to  so  many  people,  for  an 
entirely  uncertain  and  unknown  good  to  her 
sister? 

These  questions  pounded  upon  her  brain  with 
steady  reiteration.  And  accompanying  them  was 
the  desire  to  go  and  throw  herself  at  the  feet  of 
Dreiser  and  ask  him  to  name  the  sacrifice  he 
wanted  of  her  and  give  her  back  her  sister.  But 
reason  itself  prevented  her  doing  this.  Even  if 
she  were  able  to  break  through  that  indulgent 
smile  with  which  he  would  regard  her;  even  if 
she  were  able  to  find  a  heart  in  him  and  touch 
the  sympathies  of  that  heart,  Dreiser  could  not 
admit  this  thing.  No  man  could  confess  such  an 
abduction.  He  would  put  his  own  head  in  the 
noose. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  wait,  and  die  a 
thousand  deaths  in  waiting.  Those  days  and 
nights  put  nails  in  Billy's  coffin.  Never  again  did 
she  show  that  unconsciousness  of  fear  and  of 
nerves  which  marks  the  child. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  after 
EthePs  disappearance  that  she  held  this  confer- 
ence at  the  agency.  Upon  her  return  to  the  house 
she  had  asked  Conover  to  leave  her,  telling  him 
that  she  must  think  the  matter  over  alone  and 
try  to  decide  upon  some  course  of  action,  and 
that  they  would  meet  later  and  come  to  some  deci- 
sion.    When  she  went  in  she  was  surprised  to 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  28 1 

find  the  apartment  empty.  Edith  was  going  to 
her  office  every  day,  and  it  was  understood  that 
someone  should  remain  in  the  flat  at  all  times. 

Billy  found  a  note  from  her  mother,  saying 
that  she  had  received  a  note  from  the  detective 
who  had  been  doing  the  active  work  on  the  case, 
telling  her  that  a  young  woman  answering  Ethel's 
description  had  been  knocked  down  by  a  truck  on 
the  street  that  morning,  and  taken  into  a  small 
private  hospital  in  a  distant  part  of  the  city.  The 
note  had  come  by  special  messenger,  and  she  had 
left  immediately  to  go  to  the  hospital.  She  did 
not  much  believe  that  the  girl  could  be  Ethel, 
but  she  could  not  refrain  from  going. 

Billy  had  hardly  finished  reading  this  when  the 
telephone  bell  rang  insistently.  She  hastened  to 
the  phone,  placed  the  receiver  to  her  ear,  and 
heard  Central  say,  "Oh,  here  they  are;  here's 
your  party."  Then  came  a  man's  voice,  unfa- 
miliar to  her. 

"Is  this  Miss  Pennington?"  it  said. 

"Yes." 

"Are  you  alone,  Miss  Pennington?" 

"Yes,  what  is  it?" 

There  was  an  instant's  silence  and  then  floating 
over  the  wire,  uncanny,  appalling  almost,  came 
Ethel's  voice. 

"Billy,  Billy,"  it  said,  faint  and  appealing. 

"Oh  my  soul,  Ethel!"  cried  Billy. 

Another  delay,  then  the  man's  voice  again. 


282  CRAYON    CLUE 

"Do  you  want  to  see  your  sister,  Miss  Penning- 
ton?" 

"Good  heavens,  yes,'*  sobbed  Billy,  "put  her 
on  the  phone  again." 

"Never  mind  the  phone,"  said  the  voice,  "do 
you  want  to  see  your  sister?" 

"Of  course  I  do." 

"Well,  you  can  see  her  if  you  do  exactly  as  I 
say." 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

"You  are  to  come  to  the  address  I  give  you 
immediately.  You  are  to  come  in  the  street  car, 
not  an  automobile.  If  you  wait,  or  bring  anyone 
with  you,  you  won't  see  her.  If  you  have  anyone 
follow  you,  you  won't  see  her  again,  and  she  shall 
be  made  to  suffer  for  it.    Do  you  understand?" 

"Yes,  yes,  where  shall  I  go?" 

"Will  you  do  exactly  as  I  say?" 

"Yes,  exactly." 

"Very  well.  If  you  don't  you  won't  see  your 
sister,  and  you  won't  hear  her  voice  again  for 
quite  a  while.  Come  to  355  Cantnor  street,  third 
floor  back.     Repeat  that." 

"Three  fifty-five  Cantnor  street,  third  floor 
back,"  repeated  Billy,  and  instantly  the  connec- 
tion was  cut  off. 

With  fingers  that  trembled  so  much  that  she 
could  hardly  hold  the  pencil  she  scratched  off  a 
brief  line  to  her  mother  giving  a  pacifying  excuse 
for  her  absence.    Then  she  wrote  a  note  to  Con- 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  283 

over,  telling  him  where  she  had  gone  and  why. 
This  she  slipped  in  the  letter  box  at  the  door  as 
she  went  down.  She  reckoned  that  Conover 
would  not  receive  it  for  several  hours,  in  which 
case  she  would  either  have  returned  or  would 
need  his  assistance.  Conover  had  brought  her  a 
small  pistol  two  days  before,  and  told  her  that 
he  wished  she  would  carry  it  when  she  went  out 
alone ;  and  this  she  put  in  the  inner  pocket  of  her 
winter  jacket. 

She  did  not  know  where  the  address  was,  and 
had  to  inquire  of  the  conductors.  One  gave  her 
a  wrong  direction  which  wasted  precious  time. 
Every  stop  of  the  car,  every  little  delaying  inci- 
dent of  street  traffic  almost  made  her  shriek  aloud. 
Finally  she  gripped  herself  and  by  sheer  will 
power  quieted  the  mad  impatience  which  seemed 
to  be  wrecking  her  sanity. 

The  quest  took  her  into  an  old  and  dirty  part 
of  the  city,  and  Cantnor  street  was  a  short  thor- 
oughfare, only  a  few  blocks  in  extent,  several 
blocks  from  any  street  car  line.  She  found  the 
number  at  last  and  surveyed  the  house  with  sink- 
ing heart.  Had  they  indeed  brought  Ethel  here? 
It  was  an  old  and  miserable  wooden  tenement,  a 
private  dwelling  house  In  the  early  days  of  the 
city.  Rags  were  stuffed  in  broken  windows,  dirt 
caked  the  bare  floor  of  the  hall  and  the  broken 
stairs.  As  she  passed  up  the  latter  she  saw  that 
it  was  one  of  the  sweatshop  tenements.    She  met 


284  CRAYON    CLUE 

a  man  coming  down  with  a  huge  pile  of  men's 
coats  upon  his  head.  Through  an  open  door  she 
saw  a  room  packed  full  of  workers,  children  of 
all  sizes  among  them,  bent  over  woollen  gar- 
ments of  men  and  boys,  some  of  them  destined 
for  the  smartest  shops  in  the  city. 

The  people  did  not  even  look  up  as  she  passed. 
The  man  had  barely  glanced  at  her.  They  were 
too  busy,  or  too  sodden,  to  feel  curiosity.  It  was 
all  foreign  of  the  deepest  dye.  She  knew  by  the 
looks  of  the  people  that  not  one  of  them  could 
speak  English,  probably  not  even  the  children. 
They  were  fresh  from  the  steerage,  put  to  work 
by  their  fellow  countrymen  who  had  been  a  little 
longer  in  the  country;  dumb  driven  cattle. 

The  third  floor  hall  was  without  a  window  and 
almost  perfectly  dark.  She  groped  to  the  rear 
end  and  knocked  at  the  door.  There  was  no  re- 
sponse. She  waited,  then  tried  the  handle.  It 
turned  and  she  entered.  It  was  a  small  hall  bed- 
room, a  mere  sleeping  den.  Two  mattresses 
nearly  covered  the  floor.  They  had  no  sheets,  but 
were  tumbled  with  a  frowsy  heap  of  blankets. 
Men  s  garments  hung  from  nails  in  the  wall,  and 
there  were  two  chairs.    Billy  sat  down  and  waited. 

No  one  came.  After  a  while  she  heard  some 
one  come  out  of  the  front  room  on  that  floor.  She 
went  to  the  door  and  stood  looking  out.  The 
light  from  the  window  behind  her  showed  her  a 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  285 

little  dark  foreign  man,  bow-legged  and  so  small 
and  Ill-shaped  as  to  be  almost  deformed. 

"Who  lives  in  this  room?"  she  asked. 

He  looked  at  her  indifferently,  made  some  re- 
ply in  an  unintelligible  language,  and  went  on 
down  the  stairs.  She  went  back  and  waited. 
After  at  least  twenty  minutes  she  heard  a  step  on 
the  stairs.  She  felt  instinctively  that  it  was  the 
man  she  was  waiting  for.  It  was  the  step  of  a 
man  of  higher  grade,  more  power,  than  those  she 
had  seen  in  the  building. 

He  came  in,  a  youngish  man,  handsome  in  his 
way,  of  the  same  race  as  the  others  she  had  seen 
in  the  building,  but  Americanized.  His  voice 
when  he  spoke  betrayed  no  accent,  but  an  inde- 
finable forelgnness  of  articulation,  inherent  in  the 
vocal  organs,  and  not  to  be  eliminated  in  one  gen- 
eration. He  was  well  dressed,  and  as  Billy 
looked  at  him  she  was  afraid  of  him.  Plenty  of 
us  have  a  beast  lurking  down  in  the  heart;  tiger, 
ape  or  snake,  or  just  plain  pig.  But  as  long  as 
we  do  decent  things  to  make  a  living  our  occu- 
pation reacts  upon  us;  we  are  ashamed  of  the 
beast,  and  keep  him  down,  out  of  sight  anyway. 
But  when  a  human  being  gets  his  living  in  the 
way  of  the  beast,  by  preying  on  those  around  him, 
the  creature  very  soon  rises  out  of  his  heart  and 
takes  possession  of  his  face  in  a  way  quite  appall- 
ing. Billy  might  have  caught  fleeting  glimpses 
of  such  faces,  passing  her  on  the  street;  but  she 


286  CRAYON   CLUB 

had  never  sat  down  opposite  such  a  one  before 
and  studied  it,  knowing  she  must  do  business  with 
its  owner. 

He  stood  in  the  door  and  smiled  at  her. 

"I  hope  you  made  yourself  comfortable,  Miss 
Pennington,''  he  said;  **I  put  some  chairs  in  when 
I  knew  you  were  coming.'* 

"Where  is  my  sister?"  said  Billy. 

"Right  to  the  point,  I  see,"  he  laughed;  "your 
sister  is  a  long  way  from  here,  in  a  very  different 
sort  of  place.  I  am  making  her  quite  comforta- 
ble, believe  me." 

There  was  a  hideous  smirk  upon  his  face. 
Billy's  face  blanched.  His  keen  eyes  saw  it,  and 
he  smiled  more  broadly. 

"Your  sister  has  been  very  happy  with  me. 
Miss  Pennington,"  he  said;  "this  will  show  you." 

He  drew  from  his  coat  pocket  a  photograph 
and  handed  it  to  her.  It  was  a  cabinet  picture  of 
Ethel  and  himself.  He  was  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
and  had  his  arm  around  Ethel,  and  was  broadly 
smiling  in  the  picture.  On  the  face  of  the  woman 
in  the  picture  was  a  frozen  look,  but  it  was  un- 
mistakably Ethel.  She  was  in  a  loose  negligee, 
thrown  carelessly  open  at  the  throat. 

Billy  sat  staring  at  the  thing  as  if  it  were  a 
snake. 

"Miss  Ethel  came  to  me  of  her  own  accord," 
went  on  the  smooth  voice.  "See,  this  is  her  letter 
about  it." 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  287 

He  did  not  let  her  touch  the  letter,  but  held 
it  up  for  her  to  see.  It  was  unmistakably  in 
EtheFs  writing,  a  short  note  on  one  page  in 
Ethel's  firm  clerkly  hand.  It  was  dated  the  day 
before  her  disappearance. 

"My  dear  Isadore,"  it  ran,  "I  shall  come  to 
you  tomorrow  night,  as  we  planned.  I  shall  tell 
them  I  am  going  to  Billy's  meeting.  Meet  me  as 
arranged.     Your  own  Ethel." 

"Now  look  at  this,"  said  he. 

"He  showed  her  other  letters  from  Ethel  to 
himself,  dated  on  various  days  previous  to  the 
other;  fervid  love  notes,  signed  with  Ethel's  full 
name ;  unmistakably  her  signature. 

"How  did  you  get  these  things?"  said  Billy. 

"Why,  as  you  see  yourself,  Miss  Ethel  wrote 
them  to  me,"  said  the  man  smilingly. 

"She  never  did,"  said  Billy;  "they  are  forged." 

"And  the  picture?  Is  that  forged?"  said  the 
oily  voice. 

"And  how  do  you  think,"  he  went  on,  "forged 
or  not  forged,  that  they  would  look  in  the  pa- 
pers? Photographs  of  the  letters,  say,  and  the 
picture?" 

Billy  looked  at  the  photograph  again,  and  saw 
the  dreadful  ingenuity  of  it.  It  was  suggestive, 
hideously  suggestive,  but  it  was  not  unprintable. 
There  was  nothing  unprintable  in  the  letters — nay 
the  papers  would  gobble  them  up. 

"You  have  kept  this  story  out  of  the  news- 


288  CRAYON   CLUE 

papers  very  nicely,  Miss  Pennington,"  said  the 
soft  voice.  "That  may  tell  against  you  later. 
Honest  people  with  nothing  to  conceal  go  to  the 
police  when  a  member  of  the  family  disappears. 
We  could  have  given  the  story  to  the  press  any 
time  during  the  last  three  days,  with  the  picture 
and  the  letters.  How  do  you  think  they  would 
like  it?  The  sensational  disappearance  of  the 
sister  of  the  brilliant  young  woman  orator  of  the 
campaign,  Its  hushing  up  by  the  family,  her  final 
discovery  In  my  humble  home.  I  assure  you  I 
shan't  mind  the  publicity.  It's  rather  compli- 
mentary to  me  than  otherwise." 

"What  do  you  want?"  said  Billy;  "why  have 
you  brought  me  here?" 

"We  want  those  papers  you  stole.  Miss  Pen- 
nington ;  that  receipted  bill,  those  letters.  Can  we 
have  them?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  Billy. 

"Good;  then  you  must  leave  Bartown  and  stay 
away  till  after  the  campaign  Is  over.  Perhaps 
we  shall  keep  you  away  permanently,  but  we'll 
leave  that  for  the  future." 

"And  you'll  let  Ethel  come  back  If  I  do?" 

"Why,  your  sister  Is  at  perfect  liberty  to  re- 
turn to  you  any  moment,"  said  the  man;  "she 
came  to  me  of  her  own  accord." 

Billy  rose. 

"Let  us  talk  sense,"  said  she  angrily;  "there  Is 
no  use  in  trying  to  do  business  unless  we  speak 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  289 

the  truth  to  each  other.  If  you  do  not  talk  the 
truth  to  me  I  will  go  and  throw  up  the  whole  busi- 
ness and  let  you  do  the  worst." 

The  man  did  not  stir. 

**Go,"  said  he  simply. 

Billy  stood  a  long  miijute.    Then  she  sat  down. 

"Ah,  I  thought  so,"  said  the  man  smilingly. 
"We  will  talk  truth,  as  you  say.  Your  sister  came 
to  me  of  her  own  free  will,  and  is  living  with  me 
willingly.  You  saw  how  she  assisted  me  to  get 
you  here  this  morning.  This  fortunate  circum- 
stance has  given  us  a  grip  on  you  which  we  pro- 
pose to  use.  You  cannot  get  your  sister  at  pres- 
ent, because  I  would  not  drive  away  a  beautiful 
young  lady  who  seems  to  like  to  stay  with  me. 
This,  however,  need  never  become  public.  You 
can  merely  tell  your  friends  that  Ethel  has  gone 
away  somewhere,  for  her  health,  say,  or  on  a 
visit.  If  you  do  exactly  as  I  tell  you,  nothing 
about  her  will  ever  become  public.  But  if  you 
disobey  in  any  way,  I  shall  publish  the  facts,  with 
the  picture  and  the  photographed  letters.  You 
may  deny  and  bring  suit  and  endeavor  to  put  me 
in  jail — ^but  the  story  will  have  been  published. 
And  let  me  assure  you  I  have  witnesses,  excellent 
witnesses.  And  let  me  assure  you  also  that  there 
is  nothing  in  the  world  you  can  do  to  me.  Un- 
fortunately I  am  a  married  man,  so  I  couldn't 
marry  your  little  sister.  But  there  is  no  suit  for 
abduction  in  the  case  of  a  woman  24  years  old 


290  CRAYON   CLUE 

who  can  be  proved  to  have  come  willingly;  and  I 
haven't  committed  bigamy." 

"Then,  if  Ethel  will  not  come  home,  will  you 
let  me  see  her?"  said  Billy. 

"Any  time  that  she  likes,"  said  the  man  mock- 
ingly, "but  unfortunately  she  does  not  seem  to 
wish  to  see  any  of  her  family  at  the  present  time. 
Perhaps  this  little  feeling  may  wear  off  later." 

"Then  as  I  understand  it,"  said  Billy,  "you 
will  not  let  Ethel  come  home  or  let  me  see  her. 
I  am  to  give  up  the  letters  and  go  away  simply 
on  your  promise  that  the  letters  will  not  be  pub- 
lished." 

The  man  raised  his  hands  in  admiration. 

"Only  a  schoolma'am  could  have  stated  it  so 
precisely,"  said  he. 

"But  how  do  I  know  that  you  will  keep  your 
word?" 

"You  don't."    He  smiled  with  relish. 

"However,"  he  continued,  "you  have  this  se- 
curity. Our  hold  on  you  is  your  fear  of  publica- 
tion. The  minute  we  publish  you  will  set  to  work 
to  clear  your  sister's  name.  You  are  a  fighter, 
and  you  have  friends.  I  admit  that  you  might 
make  things  disagreeable  for  me,  and  that  publi- 
cation would  bring  you  flying  back  here  to  start 
the  war.  So  you  may  be  perfectly  certain  that 
we  will  not  publish  till  the  campaign  is  over,  any- 
way. After  that" — he  spoke  negligently — "I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  I'd  be  tired  of  your  sister  by 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  29 1 

that  time  and  advise  her  to  go  back  home  even 
if  she  didn't  want  to." 

"How  dare  you  people,"  said  Billy,  staring  at 
him,  "how  dare  Dreiser  give  it  away  to  me  in 
this  way  that  he  abducted  my  sister?" 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  Dreiser,"  said 
he;  "I  dare  do  anything  because  I  have  the  let- 
ters and  the  picture — and  the  girl.  And  let  me 
tell  you,  any  insolence  on  your  part  will  be  taken 
out  on  Ethel.  I'll  make  her  suffer  for  any  indis- 
cretion of  yours." 

The  tiger  looked  out  of  his  eyes.  "Please 
don't,"  said  Billy  brokenly;  "poor  Ethel.  She 
has  never  hurt  anybody.  Oh,  why  didn't  you  take 
me  instead  of  her?" 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"We  consid "  he  began,  then  thought  bet- 
ter of  it. 

"Little  girls  mustn't  meddle  with  affairs  that 
don't  belong  to  them,"  said  he;  "they  must  learn 
to  attend  to  their  knitting  and  their  school-teach- 
ing. We  give  you  till  noon  tomorrow  to  get  those 
letters  and  turn  them  over  and  get  out  of  town. 
We  give  you  that  much  time  because  we  know  the 
letters  are  in  some  man's  safety  deposit  box,  and 
we  know  you  have  to  await  the  owner's  con- 
venience to  get  into  such  a  box,  and  the  afternoon 
is  well  along  now.  You  are  not  to  speak  at  any 
meeting  tonight,  or  to  do  any  further  campaign 


292  CRAYON   CLUE 

work,  either  here  or  after  you  leave  town.  Other- 
wise we  leave  you  perfectly  free  to  go  out  of  here 
and  inform  anyone  you  like.  The  minute  you  or 
one  of  your  friends  makes  a  move  in  this  thing, 
the  story  goes  to  the  papers.  The  material  is  all 
in  safe  hands,  ready  to  be  given  to  the  papers  the 
minute  you  peep. 

"I  think  our  business  is  finished,"  said  he, 
rising;  "you  don't  need  any  name.  Instruct  him 
to  deliver  them  to  the  man  he  will  find  in  this 
room.  You  see  I  trust  you  thoroughly.  You  can 
send  along  a  policeman  to  arrest  me  for  black- 
mail if  you  like." 

He  laughed,  and  laughing  opened  the  door  and 
let  her  out. 

"Afraid  your  name  will  be  Dennis  with  the 
Bartown  Teachers'  Association  and  the  rest  of 
the  reformers  when  you  sneak  out  of  the  cam- 
paign in  this  way,"  was  his  parting  shot;  "afraid 
it  will  be  suggested  that  you  have  been  bought 
off." 

Billy  went  away  quite  calm  and  collected.  She 
found  a  pay  station  first  of  all,  and  called  up  her 
mother  and  reassured  her.  Mrs.  Pennington 
was  voluble  over  the  phone  to  the  effect  that  the 
letter  which  had  taken  her  out  that  morning  had 
been  a  fake;  no  such  girl  had  been  found;  the 
detective  had  written  no  such  letter. 

Billy  listened  quietly. 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  293 

"Yes,  mother,  we'll  talk  that  over  when  I  reach 
home,"  said  she. 

She  called  up  the  man  who  had  the  letters  In 
his  deposit  box,  and  found  that  he  had  already 
left  his  office.  She  called  up  his  home  and  found 
that  he  was  not  there,  but  received  the  Informa- 
tion that  he  commonly  stopped  at  his  club  on  his 
way  uptown  after  he  left  his  office.  She  called 
up  the  club,  caught  him,  and  made  an  appoint- 
ment for  the  next  morning  to  get  the  letters. 

Then  she  tried  to  get  Conover,  but  failed  to 
find  him  anywhere.  To  his  stenographer  she  dic- 
tated a  message  to  be  left  upon  his  desk.  Then 
she  went  home  and  began  to  pack  her  trunk. 

She  was  calm  and  collected  because  she  was 
stunned  with  the  magnitude  of  the  blow,  and  be- 
cause she  could  see  nothing  to  do.  She  saw  black 
ruin  ahead  for  both  herself  and  Ethel.  She  saw 
her  position  with  the  Teachers'  Association,  a 
position  in  which  years  of  useful  and  congenial 
work  stretched  before  her,  taken  from  her.  She 
saw  herself  queered  with  the  teachers  and  the 
whole  body  of  people  interested  in  the  campaign 
by  her  sudden  desertion,  of  which  she  could  offer 
no  explanation.  She  saw  her  lips  sealed,  for  fear 
of  involving  Ethel.  She  saw  herself  unable  to 
move  for  Ethel's  rescue,  because  of  the  story. 
She  saw  with  unerring  vision  Ethel's  life  black- 
ened, smirched,  stained,  disgraced  forever,  were 
this  thing  published.    In  old  age,  when  she  was  a 


294  CRAYON   CLUE 

gray-haired,  tottering  woman,  some  tongue  would 
wag  to  tell  it.  Even  if  the  letters  and  the  pic- 
tures were  explained,  as  Billy  knew  they  could  be; 
even  if  the  man  were  jailed  for  blackmail,  even 
if  the  whole  foul  conspiracy  were  unravelled,  car- 
rying Dreiser  and  his  gang  to  ruin,  nothing  could 
kill  the  fact — once  made  known — that  Ethel  will- 
ingly or  unwillingly  had  been  with  this  man  for 
days.  That  was  the  one  thing  that  would  first  be 
made  known,  and  that  could  not  be  denied.  Not 
for  the  letters  alone,  not  merely  to  take  her  out 
of  the  campaign,  but  for  black  revenge  was  the 
plot  concocted.  It  was  not  sufficient  to  punish 
her  alone;  Ethel  must  be  punished  too. 

To  her  mother  she  said:  "There's  nothing  to  be 
done  except  help  me  get  out  of  town.  I'll  go  to 
Aunt  Myrtle's  till  the  campaign  is  over.  Then 
we'll  see  whether  they  give  her  up,  and  what  is  to 
be  done." 

Early  in  the  evening  Conover  came  rushing  up. 

''I  found  your  letter  and  your  message  saying 
you  had  gotten  home  on  my  desk  when  I  got  down 
to  the  office,"  he  said  breathlessly.  "Oh,  Billy, 
Billy,  what  made  you  go  alone?  What  hap- 
pened?" 

While  she  was  speaking  to  him  the  McPikes 
came  in.  Billy  had  been  obliged  to  telephone 
Sara  to  come  because  it  was  necessary  to  send 
some  message  and  explanation  to  the  Teachers' 


BILLY   SEES  TROUBLE  295 

Association.  She  told  the  story  to  all  of  them 
together. 

They  took  it  according  to  their  various  tem- 
peraments; Sara  with  a  rain  of  silent  tears  pour- 
ing down  her  face,  Denny  with  furious  and  ex- 
plosive anger,  Conover  tramping,  tramping  up 
and  down  the  room,  with  the  swollen  vein  stand- 
ing out  across  his  forehead,  as  when  he  had  told 
her  his  story  in  the  schoolroom.  To  all  their  sug- 
gestions Billy  replied: 

"If  you  can  devise  any  way  to  beat  these  peo- 
ple, all  right.  I'm  out  of  it.  I  have  to  go  away. 
I  have  to  leave  it  in  your  hands.  It's  easy  enough 
to  go  to  that  place  and  arrest  that  man  tomorrow, 
or  the  man  he  sends  to  receive  the  package.  You 
can  arrest  him  for  blackmail,  but  then  it  all  comes 
out.  You  don't  help  Ethel,  you  ruin  her  for  life. 
You  don't  help  me.  You  don't  help  the  cam- 
paign. If  we  keep  quiet  and  I  go  away  the  cam- 
paign can  go  on,  and  perhaps  win.  That's  the 
only  way  we  can  get  back  at  Dreiser.  We  might 
involve  him  in  this  blackmail  business  and  punish 
him,  but  it  would  punish  me  and  Ethel  worse." 

And  no  one  of  them  could  get  past  that  point. 

Conover  wanted  to  take  his  lawyer  and  Bram's 
agency  into  consultation. 

*Tou  can  do  it  if  you  think  best,"  said  Billy, 
"but  not  till  I  get  out  of  town.  I'm  going  to  give 
back  those  letters  and  leave.  I'm  not  going  to 
have  that  story  come  out  if  I  can  help  it.    If  you 


296  CRAYON   CLUB 

want  to  work  on  the  thing  quietly — ^it  would  be 
very  good  of  you" — her  voice  broke. 

"Oh,  Billy,  my  God— Billy,*'  said  Conoven 
Denny  put  his  hand  over  his  face. 

The  telephone  rang  and  Conover  rose. 

^That's  probably  for  me,"  said  he;  "I  left 
word  where  they  could  get  me." 

"Hello,"  said  he. 

In  an  instant  he  turned  with  an  astonished  look 
upon  his  face. 

"That's  funny,"  said  he;  "some  one  said  *you 
stay  where  you  are  till  I  get  there,'  and  then  rang 
off." 

"Didn't  you  know  the  voice?" 

"No,  there  was  something  familiar  about  it, 
but  I  can't  place  it.  Well,  I  suppose  I'd  better 
wait,  but  not  long.  It's  getting  late.  I'd  like  to 
know  who  that  could  have  been,  and  what  it  could 
have  meant." 

"Was  it  a  man  or  a  woman?"  asked  McPike. 

"It  might  have  been  a  woman  and  it  might  have 
been  a  boy;  it  wasn't  a  man." 

Ten  minutes  later  the  doorbell  rang  with  in- 
sistent clamor.  Denny,  who  sat  nearest,  went  to 
open  it.  A  messenger  boy  dashed  by  him  without 
a  word,  ran  on  into  the  sitting  room  and  cried 
out,  "I've  found  Ethel;  I  know  where  she  is." 


CHAPTER   XIV 
Which  Explains  About  the  Messenger  Boy 

A  FEW  hours  earlier  than  the  serious  confab 
in  which  we  have  described  our  friends  as 
engaged,  immediately  after  dinner  in  fact,  Mr. 
Jennifer  S.  Brackett,  sometimes  known  as  Jen- 
nie, emerged  from  the  small  family  hotel  in  the 
ultra-respectable  and  semi-fashionable  section  of 
the  city  where  he  boarded,  and  sauntered  down 
the  street. 

Mr.  Brackett  had  dined  well,  and  walked  with 
the  ponderous  dignity  befitting  a  fat  man  well  fed, 
who  is  also  superintendent  of  the  fourth  school 
district  of  Bartown. 

After  he  had  moseyed  along  for  nearly  a  block 
a  messenger  boy,  who  had  been  sitting  on  the 
steps  of  a  vacant  house  opposite,  eating  peanuts, 
rose  and  trailed  along  after  him. 

Mr.  Brackett  took  a  street  car  at  the  next  cor- 
ner. A  number  of  people  took  it  likewise,  and 
Mr.  Brackett  was  seated  in  the  car  and  had  pulled 
forth  his  evening  paper  before  the  messenger  boy, 
last  of  the  bunch,  mounted  the  car.  The  boy 
stood  on  the  rear  platform,  his  back  to  the  car, 
297 


298  CRAYON   CLUE 

smoking  a  cigarette.  He  was  a  scrawny,  half- 
grown  lad,  possibly  16  or  thereabouts,  with  a 
wizened  blase,  sophisticated  face,  a  good  deal  too 
old  for  his  size,  as  is  the  case  with  many  messen- 
ger boys. 

The  car  made  its  way  into  a  curious  part  of 
the  city  for  the  respectable  Mr.  Brackett  to  visit; 
a  low  and  crowded  part  of  town,  where  moving 
picture  shows  were  running  full  blast  in  every 
block,  the  brilliant  lights  of  saloons  illumined 
every  corner,  and  the  vanguard  of  the  city's  night 
prowlers  had  begun  to  surge  through  the  streets. 

Mr.  Brackett  descended  from  the  car  on  the 
near  side  of  the  corner.  The  boy  let  the  car 
move  on  to  the  other  side  of  the  crossing,  right- 
fully judging  that  Brackett's  powers  of  locomo- 
tion would  not  remove  that  gentleman  from  his 
sight  before  he  could  catch  up  with  him.  His 
eagle  eye  never  left  his  quarry,  and  as  he  swung 
off  he  started  after  the  fat  man.  Brackett's  ex- 
cursion into  this  unsavory  neighborhood  was  now 
accounted  for,  for  he  made  his  way  to  a  bril- 
liantly lighted  and  fantastically  decorated  Chinese 
restaurant.  Perfectly  respectable  people  may  ven- 
ture into  an  unusual  quarter  to  eat  at  a  famous 
chop  suey  house. 

Brackett  was  just  disappearing  into  the  restau- 
rant in  company  with  another  man  when  the  mes- 
senger boy  started  after  him  again.    He  hastened 


EXPLAINS  ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER   BOY      299 

in  and  saw  his  friends  just  closing  the  door  of  one 
of  a  row  of  little  private  dining  rooms. 

He  immediately  walked  into  the  next  one,  and 
of  the  Chinaman  who  appeared  ordered  a  bowl 
of  rice  and  fish.  While  the  waiter  was  gone  he 
gazed  about  with  great  dissatisfaction.  Although 
the  partition  walls  were  flimsy  he  could  not  hear 
a  single  word  from  the  next  room.  Not  a  venti- 
lator, not  a  keyhole  or  crack  offered  friendly  as- 
sistance to  nefarious  purpose. 

When  the  Celestial  came  back  with  his  order 
he  paid  for  it  and  handed  out  an  extra  quarter. 

''Don*t  let  anyone  bother  me,  Charlie,"  said 
he  in  a  lordly  way;  "IVe  got  a  long  wait  and  I'll 
just  sit  here  and  smoke  and  read  me  papers,  see?" 

The  Chinaman  grinned. 

"All  light,"  said  he;  **I  keep  'em  out." 

The  boy  placed  his  chair  near  the  door,  which 
he  set  slightly  ajar,  and  patiently  waited.  It  was 
a  long  wait,  and  he  smoked  innumerable  cigar- 
ettes to  while  away  the  time.  As  he  smoked  he 
cogitated. 

"Who's  this  other  man  and  what's  he  got  to  do 
with  it?    How'll  I  find  out  his  name?" 

Eventually  his  patience  was  rewarded.  The 
two  men  came  out  of  their  room,  and  stood  for 
a  moment  in  the  empty  space  in  front  of  their 
door.     Both  were  smiling  and  excited. 

"Well,  what  shall  we  do  now?"  said  Brackett. 


300  CRAYON   CLUE 

"Oh,  let's  get  Jule  and  Sam  and  make  a  night 
of  it  on  this,"  said  the  stranger. 

"Where's  Jule?"  asked  Brackett. 

"He  was  up  home  when  I  left,"  said  the  man. 

"Will  it  be  all  right  for  him  to  leave?"  asked 
Brackett. 

"Sure,"  replied  the  other;  "the  old  lady'U  look 
after  her.  Come  on;  you  can  call  him  up  and 
I'll  go  round  the  corner  and  see  if  Sam's  on  deck. 
Then  we'll  go  down  to  the  Hungarian  and  start 
in." 

They  left  the  place,  the  boy  trailing  them. 
When  they  separated  he  let  the  stranger  go  and 
followed  Brackett.  That  gentleman  entered  a 
little  tobacco  store  and  walked  directly  to  the 
telephone.  The  messenger  boy  stood  at  the  high, 
glass-covered  cigar  showcase  just  behind  him 
when  he  took  off  the  receiver.  A  group  of  men 
were  laughing  and  talking  loudly  at  the  counter, 
the  roar  of  the  city  came  in  from  outside.  No  one 
else  paid  any  attention  to  the  man  at  the  phone  or 
could  hear  his  low  voice.  But  the  boy  distin- 
guished the  softly  spoken  words  out  of  all  the 
uproar  because  his  listening  faculty  was  bent  en- 
tirely upon  them.    Brackett  said: 

"Is  Krog  home? 

"Is  that  you,  Krog?  Becker  wants  you  to  meet 
us  at  the  Hungarian  right  away.    All  right." 

The  boy,  his  back  to  the  phone,  slid  out  of  the 
door  as  Brackett  turned  to  pay  his  nickel.     The 


EXPLAINS  ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER  BOY      30I 

two  friends  received  no  more  of  the  messenger 
boy's  attention  that  night.  Fast  as  electric  cars 
could  speed  him  he  was  off  uptown.  In  half  an 
hour  he  dismounted.  The  long  avenue  up  which 
his  car  had  come  was  full  of  those  little  food,  no- 
tion, ice-cream,  tobacco  and  drug  stores  which 
minister  to  the  humble  needs  of  a  lower  middle 
class  neighborhood  in  a  large  city.  The  side  street 
into  which  he  turned  was  solidly  built  up  with 
small  old  brick  houses,  with  the  exception  of  one 
bright  open  spot  on  the  lower  side  where  the  big 
door  of  a  garage  stood  open.  It  was  a  quiet 
block,  already  almost  dark  and  deserted. 

**Now,  let's  see,"  muttered  the  boy;  "52  Quinn, 
52  Quinn;  that's  where  he  lived  last  fall.  This 
is  Quinn,  even  numbers  on  upper  side  of  street." 

He  walked  along  peering  distractedly  for  num- 
bers on  the  dark  doors.  Finally  he  saw  a  large 
"60"  painted  on  the  glass  above  the  door  of  a 
lighted  vestibule.  From  this  he  counted  quickly 
to  52,  and  walked  boldly  up  the  steps.  It  was  a 
two-story  and  ba^iement  house,  and  there  was  one 
light  in  it,  in  the  second-story  front  room. 

He  rang  and  a  woman's  voice  was  soon  heard. 

"Who  iss  it?"  she  said. 

"Messenger,"  he  said. 

"Ve  calk  no  messenger;  who  iss  the  message 
from  and  who  hass  sent  it?"  said  she. 

"Open  up,  old  girl,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about 
it,"  said  the  boy. 


302  CRAYON   CLUE 

*'Don'  you  get  too  fresh.  Tell  me  who  iss  de 
message  for?'' 

"All  right,  deary,"  said  the  boy  loudly,  "if 
you  want  me  to  holler  it  out  to  the  whole  block, 
Becker's  got  in  trouble  and  wants  Krog." 

The  door  opened  hastily  enough  at  this  and 
the  woman  stretched  out  a  hand  to  help  the  boy 
in. 

"Hush  your  noiss,"  she  hissed  sibllantly,  with 
an  intensely  foreign  accent,  pulling  on  his  sleeve. 

"Vat  for  you  vant  to  schream  like  that?  Now 
vat  you  say?    Tell  it  again." 

"Just  leave  me  sleeve  loose,  aunty,"  said  the 
boy  coolly,  "and  don't  be  so  shy  and  bashful  about 
opening  the  door  when  I  come  around  again.  I 
said  Becker  was  in  trouble  and  sent  me  to  get 
Krog." 

"Vat  kind  of  dope  is  diss  you  gif  me?"  said  the 
old  woman. 

"Oh,  it's  straight  dope." 

"But  Krog  Iss  gone  alretty.  Becker  phoned 
him  and  he  is  vent  alretty." 

"Well,  he  didn't  get  there,  and  Becker  sent  me 
to  get  him." 

"Den  vy  don'  Becker  phone  again?" 

"Because  he  didn't  want  to  phone  here.  I  tell 
you  he's  in  trouble.  He's  afraid  he's  going  to  be 
arrested,  and  he  didn't  want  to  let  anyone  hear 
him  phone  to  this  place.  He  wants  Krog  to  do 
something  for  him.    He  told  me  to  come  here  and 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT   THE   MESSENGER   BOY      303 

just  tell  you  to  find  Krog  and  tell  him  to  come  to 
the  downtown  place.  He  said  Krog  would 
know.'' 

At  the  mention  of  arrest  the  old  woman  had 
begun  to  wring  her  hands. 

**But  I  don'  know  vere  iss  Julius,"  she  whim- 
pered. *'He  iss  gone.  It  iss  more  as  half  an 
hour  he  iss  gone." 

"Where'dhego?" 

"I  don'  know.  He  tell  me  he  go  mit  Isadore 
somevere." 

"Well,  don't  you  know  some  place  where  you 
might  find  him?  You'd  better  phone  around  and 
see  if  you  can't  find  him." 

"Yess,  yess,"  said  she,  "I  know  some  place  vere 
he  might  be.     I  phoned  him." 

She  started  up  the  stairs,  paying  no  attention 
to  the  boy  who  followed  her. 

The  boy  had  been  using  his  eyes  every  min- 
ute. Since  no  one  else  had  appeared  he  felt  quite 
sure  no  one  else  was  afoot  and  about  in  the  house. 
The  hall  below  was  the  common  little  vestibule  of 
a  cheap  old-fashioned  dwelling.  The  stairs 
started  close  by  the  front  door,  and  he  had  no 
doubt  that  around  behind  other  stairs  started  be- 
neath them  down  to  the  basement.  The  two 
other  ordinary  first  floor  rooms  of  such  a  house, 
"front  and  back  parlor,"  were  to  the  right  of  the 
hall,  the  doors  into  both  standing  open.  On  the 
second  floor  were  the  same  little  hall,  the  same 


304  CRAYON   CLUE 

two  rooms.  The  door  into  the  front  one  stood 
open;  a  gas  jet  was  lit  within,  he  could  see  the 
furnishings  of  a  bedroom.  But  the  door  of  the 
rear  room  on  the  second  floor  was  closed;  the 
only  closed  door  he  had  seen  in  the  house. 

The  old  woman  made  for  the  telephone,  which 
was  on  the  wall  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  between 
the  doors  of  the  two  rooms.  She  gave  a  number 
and  stood  with  the  receiver  at  her  ear,  but  before 
she  got  an  answer  the  boy  behind  her  shouted  in 
a  loud,  chanting  voice, 

"Such  disgrace, 
Shut  your  face, 
Don't  let  out  a  word." 

She  turned  angrily  to  see  the  boy  cutting  ab- 
surd awkward  pigeon  wings  in  time  to  his  chant- 
ing voice. 

"You  must  be  a  fool,"  said  she  hotly;  "how  can 
I  telephone  mit  you  yellin'  alretty?" 

"Shut  yer  face," 

yelled  the  boy.    "Can't  we  have  a  little  fun,  old 

girl? 

"Parowax, 
Break  your  backs. 
Gosh,  the  deep  disgrace 
Not  to  find 
Any  kind 
Of  grease  t'  save  yer  face." 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER   BOY      305 

The  woman  looked  at  him  too  much  amazed  to 
be  angry,  and  with  some  fear. 

**Vot  foolishness  dope  is  diss?  You  must  be 
cracy,'*  she  said  with  alarm. 

*'No,  I  ain't  bughouse,  aunty,"  said  the  boy 
good-naturedly;  *'go  on  with  yer  telephoning  FlI 
be  good  now." 

She  got  her  number  and  talked,  and  while  she 
was  busy  at  this  the  boy  sidled  noiselessly  over  to 
the  closed  door  and  upon  its  panel  thumped  out 
softly  with  one  knuckle  the  rhythm  of  his  dog- 
gerel : 

Thumpy  thump, 
Thumpy  thump, 
Thumpy  thumpy  thump. 

He  stopped  and  listened  intently.  A  pause, 
then  from  the  other  side,  faintly  as  a  mouse  nib- 
bling, came  thumpy  thump,  thumpy  thump, 
thumpy  thumpy  thump. 

The  boy  darted  away  from  the  door. 

"It  iss  no  use,"  said  the  old  woman  patheti- 
cally, turning  away  from  the  phone,  "I  cannot  find 
him.  Oh,  my  Izzy,  vat  is  happen  to  him?"  And 
she  wrung  her  hands  again. 

"All  right,  mother,"  said  the  boy,  already  half 
way  downstairs,  "I  can't  wait  any  longer.  Becker 
told  me  to  come  back  if  I  couldn't  find  him.  So 
long." 

"Vait,  vait,"  cried  the  old  woman,  toddling 


306  CRAYON   CLUE 

after  him,  but  he  was  out  of  the  door  while  she 
talked  on. 

He  sped  across  the  street  and  into  the  garage. 

"By  gum,  there's  a  messenger  boy  running," 
grinned  one  of  the  men. 

The  boy  flashed  a  ten-dollar  bill  In  his  hand 
as  he  raced  across  the  floor  to  the  small,  bril- 
liantly lighted  oflice. 

"Get  a  car  ready  for  me  and  give  me  the  use 
of  your  phone  a  minute,"  he  said  In  a  tone  that 
made  the  man  sit  up. 

"533 M,"  said  the  boy  into  the  phone.  A  min- 
ute later  he  spoke  one  sentence : 

"You  stay  there  till  I  get  there,"  and  slammed 
on  the  receiver. 

"How  much  to  6^  Torrey  street,  no  return?" 
he  snapped  out. 

"Five  dollars,"  said  the  man. 

The  boy  slapped  down  his  ten-dollar  bill. 

"There's  another  five  in  It  for  you  without  tak- 
ing out  a  car,"  said  he,  "and  more  later  If  you'll 
just  set  a  man  to  watch  52,  right  across  the  street, 
till  I  get  back,  and  tell  me  if  anyone  goes  in  or 
out  of  It." 

"All  right,  what  is  it?"  said  the  man  eagerly; 
"divorce  case?" 

"Yep,"  said  the  boy,  "y'  got  It  first  crack." 

He  leaped  Into  the  car  which  instantly  glided 
through  the  door. 

Less  than  ten  minutes  later  he  rang  at  the  Pen- 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER   BOY      307 

nington  flat,  rushed  past  Denny  at  the  door,  burst 
into  the  sitting  room  and  cried,  "I've  found  Ethel; 
I  know  where  she  is." 

The  crowd  gazed  upon  him  stupefied,  but  Billy 
suddenly  cried,  "Why,  it's  Delia." 

"Yes,"  said  Delia,  "don't  fuss,  never  mind  my 
clothes.  I've  often  been  out  in  them.  Let  me 
tell  my  story." 

She  told  it  rapidly. 

"I  knew  you  were  all  here,"  said  she;  "I 
phoned  Conover's  office  and  the  McPikes  house 
earlier  in  the  evening.  So  I  just  called  up  to  see 
if  you  were  still  here,  and  by  good  luck  I  caught 
you.  I  couldn't  tell  you  all  this  business  over  the 
phone.  No  booths  down  there  anyway,  nothing 
but  drug  store  phones  with  everybody  listening 
to  you.  The  place  is  not  ten  minutes  from  here 
by  auto.  Ethel's  there,  if  you  want  to  go  and 
get  her  out." 

Conover  leaped  to  his  feet. 

"The  car's  here,"  said  he;  "shall  we  go  and 
do  it,  Billy?" 

Billy  clasped  her  head  with  her  hands. 

"Wait  I  Wait  I"  she  cried;  "what  effect  will  it 
have?" 

"The  effect  will  be  that  you  will  have  her  here, 
and  no  matter  what  they  do  you  can  swear  she's 
never  been  out  of  the  house,"  said  Conover  ex- 
citedly. "You  can  go  on  and  leave  town  as  you 
planned  if  you  think  best,  but  to  have  Ethel  in 


3o8  Crayon  clue 

your  possession  makes  it  a  good  deal  less  danger- 
ous for  her.  It  takes  the  sand  out  of  their  story 
if  they  publish." 

*Tes,  yes,"  said  Billy,  "that's  right.  Go  and 
get  her,  Baring — Denny — go  and  get  her." 

The  two  men,  already  in  their  coats,  leaped  for 
the  door. 

"Hold  on  I"  said  Delia;  "wait  a  minute  I" 

"Let's  get  the  bunch,"  she  said,  as  they  stopped 
and  gazed  at  her.  "Let's  bag  the  lot  of  them. 
Let's  get  Dreiser  and  Brackett  to  that  house  to- 
night and  nail  them  to  the  cross." 

"How  can  we  get  them?"  said  Conover. 

"I've  got  something  in  my  head  to  phone  them 
from  that  house  that'll  bring  them  there  sure  as 
taxes,  if  you're  game." 

"Game?    Of  course  I'm  game." 

"Then  you'll  have  to  get  more  men,"  said 
Delia ;  "there  are  two  men  attached  to  that  house 
that  we  know  of,  and  maybe  more,  and  they  may 
be  there  when  we  get  back  for  all  we  know;  and 
you're  planning  to  call  in  two  more.  You  two 
can't  handle  them.  You'd  better  get  some  po- 
lice." 

"No  police,"  said  Conover,  "no  police.  The 
police  would  arrest  us  instead  of  the  other  fel- 
lows.   Bram's  men.     I'm  going  after  them  now." 

The  two  men  plunged  away,  but  at  the  door 
found  the  messenger  boy  at  their  heels. 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER   BOY      309 

"Get  back,  Delia,"  said  Conover,  "this  Is  no 
woman's  job.    There  may  be  fighting." 

"Shut  your  mouth,"  said  Delia  coolly.  "Where 
would  you  be  if  I  hadn't  doped  this  thing  out  for 
you?  You  haven't  even  got  the  address  of  the 
house.     You're  a  great  detective." 

With  a  helpless  gesture  of  his  hand  Conover 
gave  way  and  she  went  with  them. 

His  car  was  at  the  door,  they  piled  in  and  tore 
over  to  the  agency.  Conover  strode  into  the 
office  of  the  man  in  charge. 

"I've  found  the  place  where  Ethel  Pennington 
is  shut  up,"  said  he,  "that  you  fellows  have  been 
hunting  for  days.  I  want  three  of  your  best  men, 
and  I  want  them  quick,  and  with  guns  and  ropes 
and  handcuffs  and  gags.  I  want  them  to  go  pre- 
pared to  break  into  a  house  or  to  fight  or  to  break 
the  law  in  any  other  way  that  I  say.  I'll  stand 
whatever  consequences  arise." 

He  was  Conover,  the  millionaire,  owner  of  the 
biggest  paper  in  Bartown.  He  got  what  he 
wanted. 

The  big  car  with  six  men  and  the  messenger 
boy  in  it  tore  away  toward  52  Quinn;  and  as  it 
went  Conover  and  Delia  planned  their  raid.  They 
stopped  around  the  corner  and  Delia  sped  over  to 
the  garage. 

"Anybody  been  in  there?"  she  said  to  the  pro- 
prietor. 

"Not  a  soul,"  said  he. 


3IO  CRAYON   CLUE 

She  handed  him  another  ten. 

"All  right,  call  off  your  man,"  said  she;  "don't 
see  anything  more,  and  don't  tell  anything  youVe 
heard;* 

"Say,  can't  you  put  me  wise?"  said  the  man, 
grinning. 

"Naw,  if  you  get  too  wise  you  won't  get  any 
more  of  my  trade,"  said  Delia. 

She  returned  to  the  car  and  all  hands  got  out 
except  the  chauffeur. 

"Keep  the  car  here,  Henry,"  said  Conover, 
"and  when  you  hear  me  blow  three  notes  on  my 
whistle  come  a-running." 

They  trod  silently  up  the  steps  and  rang  again. 
It  was  now  past  midnight,  but  the  light  still 
burned  in  the  room  upstairs. 

"That  poor  woman,"  muttered  Delia,  with 
some  slight  remorse. 

There  was  no  delay  this  time.  An  answering 
voice,  "Who's  dere?"  came  quickly  from  behind 
the  closed  door. 

"Me  again,  honey,"  said  Delia;  "I've  got  an- 
other message  from  Becker." 

The  door  was  opened,  instantly  Conover 
stepped  in  and  made  a  grab  for  the  woman.  She 
eluded  him  with  a  loud  exclamation,  but  she  did 
not  scream.  Instead  she  turned  and  flew  up  the 
stairs  with  surprising  speed. 

"The  phone!  the  phone  I"  cried  Delia,  "she's 
after  the  phone." 


EXPLAINS  ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER   BOY      3II 

Conover  bounded  after  her  and  caught  her  just 
as  she  had  jerked  down  the  receiver. 

"Police!"  she  had  cried  just  once,  when  Con- 
over's  arm  went  around  her  from  behind,  his 
hand  pressed  over  her  mouth  and  he  twisted  her 
to  one  side-  and  held  her  squirming,  with  her  head 
in  chancery  against  his  shoulder,  while  with  the 
other  hand  he  held  the  receiver  to  his  own  ear. 

"What's  that?"  said  Central  suspiciously; 
"some  one  calling  police?" 

"No,  no,  all  a  mistake,  Central" — Conover's 
frank,  laughing  voice  went  into  the  mouthpiece 
reassuringly — "lady  here  been  taking  too  much 
mixed  ale,  that's  all.  Cook's  on  the  rampage 
and  we  had  to  be  a  little  rough  with  her,  and  she 
thought  she'd  call  the  police." 

"Oh,  well,  be  gentle  with  her,"  replied  the 
girl,  moUIfied. 

"Why,  I'm  the  gentlest  pirate  that  ever  cut  a 
throat  or  scuttled  a  ship,"  laughed  Conover. 

The  girl  laughed  and  rang  off. 

Conover  turned  away  with  the  sweat  standing 
on  his  forehead. 

"That  may  bring  the  police  on  us  yet,"  said  he 
in  a  low  voice;  "here,"  to  two  of  Bram's  men, 
"gag  this  woman  and  tie  up  her  hands.  It's  the 
only  way  to  be  sure  of  her.  And  you,  there, 
search  this  house  to  see  that  there  is  no  one  in  it- 
Then  guard  the  hall  down  below  and  the  base- 


312  CRAYON  CLUE 

ment,  and  warn  us  if  you  hear  anybody  coming. 
Quiet's  the  word,  all  hands,  and  get  a  move  on." 

^'Ethel's  in  here,"  said  Denny,  his  hand  on  the 
door  of  the  locked  room;  ''Ethel,  Ethel,  do  you 
hear  me?" 

"Yes,  Denny,"  came  the  voice  of  Ethel  faintly. 

"Oh,  where  are  the  keys,"  cried  Delia  fran- 
tically, having  already  searched  the  old  woman, 
and  found  neither  key  nor  pocket  amid  her  scanty 
attire.  She  flew  into  the  bedroom  and  pawed 
frantically  over  stand  and  bureau.  "Ah  I" — a  note 
of  triumph  as  she  threw  back  the  pillow  and  found 
a  key  lying  under  It. 

She  thrust  it  In  the  lock  of  the  closed  door, 
but  It  was  too  large  by  half. 

"Where's  the  key  of  that  door,"  said  Conover 
sternly  of  the  old  woman. 

She  looked  at  him  with  malice  in  her  black 
eyes.  He  raised  his  revolver,  but  she  gazed  at 
it  unafraid.    She  knew  he  would  not  shoot. 

"Where's  the  key?"  snarled  Delia,  seizing  her 
by  the  shoulder;  "if  you  don't  tell  we'll  have  Isa- 
dore  and  Julius  both  sent  to  states  prison." 

The  woman  blanched,  and  lifting  her  manacled 
hands  slightly  pointed  to  the  floor  in  front  of  the 
door.  With  a  cry  of  triumph  Delia  went  upon 
her  knees,  felt  under  the  edge  of  the  carpet  and 
drew  forth  the  key.  An  instant  later  the  door 
was  open  and  Denny  sprang  through  and  caught 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT   THE   MESSENGER   BOY      313 

Ethel  Pennington  In  his  arms  as,  ghastly  white 
and  haggard,  she  swayed  towards  them. 

''She's  fainted,"  said  Denny;  "don't  wake  her. 
Take  her  home  as  she  is.  Quick  now,  before  any- 
one comes  back.  Give  me  your  coat,  Conover; 
it's  warmer  than  mine." 

Conover  stripped  off  his  great  astrachan-faced 
automobile  coat,  and  they  wrapped  her  in  it.  She 
had  on  only  a  hideous  kimono  with  great  staring 
flowers  all  over  it,  over  her  nightgown,  and  there 
were  no  other  clothes  in  the  room.  Her  feet  were 
bare,  and  there  were  no  shoes  or  stockings  to  be 
found. 

"Her  clothes  must  be  somewhere  in  this 
house,"  said  McPike  between  his  teeth;  "we  must 
find  every  one  of  them  before  we  leave." 

Denny  carried  her  down  himself,  and  they 
tucked  her  in  among  the  robes  with  Delia's  arms 
around  her,  and  one  of  the  Bram  men  in  the  car 
for  protection. 

"You  stay  there,"  said  Conover  to  this  man; 
"you  protect  that  flat  tonight.  Delia,  you  come 
back  with  the  car;  we  may  need  you.'* 

"Get  Dreiser  first,"  said  Delia  in  a  low  voice; 
"you  probably  can't  find  the  others  anyway,  but 
watch  out,  they  may  be  in  any  minute." 

The  car  glided  away,  and  Conover  sprang  back 
into  the  house  and  up  to  the  phone. 

"Ethel's  on  her  way  home  with  Delia,"  he  said 
into  Billy's  listening  car. 


314  CRAYON   CLUE 

He  drew  a  long  breath  as  he  turned  away  from 
the  instrument. 

**Well,  that  much  is  accomplished,"  said  he. 

"Pretty  quick  work,"  said  Denny. 

Conover  touched  him  lightly  on  the  shoulder. 

''I  was  sorry  not  to  send  you  home  with  Ethel, 
Mac,"  he  said;  "I  guess  you'd  have  liked  to  go 
with  her.  But  I  needed  you  here  for  the  second 
part  of  the  show." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Denny,  "I  want  to  be 
here  when  Dreiser  comes." 

He  was  evidently  laboring  under  strong  ex- 
citement. 

"Conover" — he  ripped  out  a  smothered  oath — 
"it  seems  to  me  there's  got  to  be  killing  done  in 
this  thing;  it  seems  to  me  there's  got  to  be." 

"Maybe,  maybe,"  said  Conover,  "but  not  to- 
night. Some  other  time,  perhaps,  when  it  can't 
be  connected  with  the  Penningtons.  There's  only 
one  thing  on  God's  earth  we  can  do  for  those  girls 
now,  and  that  is  to  close  these  fellows'  mouths." 

"Yes,  that's  right,"  said  Denny. 

"Now  for  the  other  birds,"  said  Conover. 

He  rang  up  and  after  a  short  wait  began  to  talk 
low  and  swiftly  into  the  phone. 

"Jack,"  said  he,  "I  want  the  use  of  your  name 
for  a  short  time  this  evening.  No,  I  won't  do 
anything  to  disgrace  it.  All  about  it  is  this.  A 
few  minutes  from  now  somebody  may  ring  you  up 
and  ask  if  you  are  in.     I  don't  want  you  to  an- 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT   THE   MESSENGER   BOY      315 

swer  the  phone.  I  want  you  to  have  somebody 
else  answer  it,  and  say  that  you  are  gone  to  52 
Quinn  street  on  a  call.  Get  that?  And  say,  have 
them  say  that  you've  been  gone  some  time.  I  may 
want  to  use  your  name  a  few  minutes  in  calling 
somebody  up  over  the  phone.  Is  that  all  right? 
Nothing  may  come  of  it.  I  may  not  have  to  use 
your  name,  and  very  likely  nobody  will  call  you 
up.  But  I  want  to  impersonate  an  M.  D.  and 
in  case  there  is  question  I  want  to  have  a  doctor's 
name  to  use.  What?  No,  I  can't  explain  now, 
take  too  long.  But  I'll  explain  everything  later, 
and  I  give  you  my  word  it  won't  let  you  in  for 
anything  disagreeable.  Is  it  a  go?  Thanks,  old 
man;  call  on  me  when  you  need  a  favor;  so  long." 

He  rang  off  and  consulted  the  little  memoran- 
dum book  in  which  he  had  placed  the  telephone 
numbers  for  Dreiser  and  Brackett  given  him  by 
Delia.  He  rang  up  the  first,  but  there  was  a  con- 
siderable wait. 

'*Gee,  I  hope  he  isn't  out  anywhere,"  he  said 
to  Denny;  ''that'll  queer  the  whole  thing." 

When  Dreiser's  voice  finally  came  over  the 
phone  it  was  a  little  peevish. 

"What's  the  matter?"  it  said;  "I  was  in  bed." 

"Ah,  is  that  Mr.  Dreiser?"  said  Conover  in 
a  smooth  suave  tone;  "sorry  to  wake  you  up,  Mr. 
Dreiser,  but  it  seemed  necessary.  Ah,  Mr.  Drei- 
ser, I  am  a  physician.  This  is  52  Quinn  street  I 
am  speaking  from.     Your  caretaker  here  called 


3l6  CRAYON    CLUE 

me  in.  At  least  she  wanted  a  doctor  and  went 
to  a  drug  store  and  they  called  me.  The  young 
lady  here  is  very  111,  In  convulsions.  It  looks  to 
me  as  if  she  had  been  poisoned.  Of  course  that's 
a  very  serious  matter  and  I  shall  have  to  report 
it  whether  she  lives  or  dies.  If  she  dies,  and  It 
looks  to  me  as  if  she  were  going  to,  there  will 
have  to  be  an  Inquest.  Mr.  Becker  and  Mr. 
Krog  both  seem  to  be  away.  There's  no  one  here 
but  the  old  woman.  She  tells  me  you  have  an 
Interest  in  the  young  lady,  you  and  a  Mr. 
Brackett.  Will  you  come  down?  Or  shall  I  call 
up  Mr.  Brackett?" 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Then  Dreiser's  voice, 
cool  and  unruffled,  replied,  "I'll  come  down. 
Never  mind  Brackett.     I'll  get  him." 

"Ah,  thank  you.  That  relieves  me  of  respon- 
sibility.    And  when  may  I  expect  you?" 

"I'll  come  down  directly.  Don't  call  up  any- 
body else.  Just  let  things  rest  till  I  get  there. 
Look  after  the  girl.  Do  everything  you  can  for 
her.  Don't  let  her  die.  Your  bill  will  be  paid 
all  right." 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Dreiser,  certainly,"  said  Con- 
over,  and  turned  away  with  face  beaming. 

"It  works,  Mac;  It  works,"  he  whispered. 

He  had  the  prisoner  put  out  of  sight.  The 
lower  floor  was  left  in  darkness  except  for  one 
dim  jet  In  the  hall.  One  of  the  detectives  was  left 
concealed  below,  and  the  other  three  men  present 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT   THE   MESSENGER   BOY      317 

betook  themselves  to  the  room  In  which  Ethel 
had  been  imprisoned.  This  room  had  solid 
wooden  blinds  at  the  windows,  which  were  tightly 
closed  and  padlocked.  Small  semicircular  holes 
at  the  tops  could  be  made  to  admit  a  little  light 
and  air.  The  room  had  but  one  door,  into  the 
hall.  This  they  left  wide  open,  and  lit  the  gas 
full  blaze. 

In  a  few  minutes  a  taxicab  dashed  up  to  the 
door.  A  man  leaped  from  it,  ran  up  the  steps 
and  entered  the  hall.  Seeing  all  dark  below  and 
the  light  streaming  from  the  door  upstairs,  he 
mounted  the  stairs  with  long,  swift  steps  and 
strode  Into  the  lighted  room.  The  minute  he 
entered  one  of  the  detectives,  who  stood  behind 
the  door,  stepped  In  front  of  It  and  stood  with 
his  revolver  In  his  hand. 

Dreiser  stood  perfectly  still,  staring  at  the  two 
pistols  pointed  at  him. 

"What  does  this  mean,  Mr.  Conover?"  said 
he,  with  entire  self-possession. 

"It  means  weVe  got  you,  Dreiser,  and  got  you 
good,"  said  Conover. 

"How  have  you  got  me?"  asked  Dreiser 
calmly. 

"WeVe  got  you  on  abduction  and  blackmail, 
you  damned  scoundrel,"  said  Conover.  "WeVe 
got  the  girl,  and  weVe  got  her  story.  WeVe  got 
your  man  Becker  and  your  man  Krog  and  your 
old  hag  tied  up  downstairs.    I  telephoned  you  to 


3l8  CRAYON   CLUE 

come  down  here  and  look  after  the  girl,  and  you 
came.  These  gentlemen  and  another  downstairs 
heard  me  do  It.  WeVe  caught  you  with  the 
goods  on,  Dreiser." 

Dreiser  stood  perfectly  silent,  and  one  could 
see  from  his  face  how  hard  his  mind  was  work- 
ing. 

"The  others  may  be  along,"  said  Denny  In  an 
undertone. 

"Did  you  telephone  for  Brackett,  Dreiser?" 
asked  Conover. 

Dreiser  stared  at  him  without  speaking. 

Conover  walked  up  to  him. 

"Answer  me  when  I  speak  to  you,"  said  he  in 
a  low  voice. 

"Yes,"  said  Dreiser,  "but  he  was  not  at  home." 

"Sit  down  in  that  chair,"  said  Conover,  point- 
ing to  one  at  the  small  table;  and  when  the  su- 
perintendent had  obeyed  stood  over  him  with  a 
revolver. 

"Go  through  him,  Mac,"  said  he. 

Denny  searched  the  prisoner,  and  drew  a  pis- 
tol from  his  overcoat  pocket. 

"Ah,"  said  Conover;  "now  just  tie  his  ankles 
with  that  rope." 

"Mr.  Conover,"  said  Dreiser,  "this  Is  unneces- 
sary and  absurd.  I  protest  against  this  melo- 
drama." 

"I  don't  trust  men  that  steal  girls,"  said  Con- 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER   BOY      319 

over;  "your  dignity's  all  thrown  away,  Dreiser. 
Keep  that  to  frighten  poor  schoolma'ams  with." 

"Mr.  McPike/'  said  Dreiser,  "you  are  hurting 
me. 

"I  mean  to,"  said  Denny  grimly. 

Conover  took  from  his  pocket  a  fountain  pen 
and  shook  down  the  ink. 

"Pity  we  haven't  got  some  of  the  chalk  in  the 
Bartown  schools  to  write  this  with,"  he  grinned. 

He  took  a  flat  notebook  from  his  pocket  and 
tore  out  several  sheets. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "Brother  Dreiser,  you  may 
have  the  police  department  behind  you,  but  you 
haven't  got  the  prosecuting  attorney's  office,  I'll 
go  bail  on  that.  The  prosecuting  attorney's  an 
honest  man  and  a  good  friend  of  mine.  It  would 
just  tickle  him  foolish  to  make  a  celebrated  case 
of  this  and  send  two  beauties  like  you  and 
Brackett  to  the  state  penitentiary,  with  the  Bar- 
town  Forum  to  tell  what  a  great  man  he  was  all 
the  time  he  was  doing  it.  Now  If  you  want  me 
to  lay  the  information  I  have  before  him  and 
start  proceedings  against  you  Immediately,  why 
all  right.  If  you  don't  care  to  have  that  done, 
you  take  that  pen  and  write  what  I  tell  you, 
Dreiser." 

Dreiser  took  up  the  pen. 

"I,  Edmund  H.  Dreiser,"  began  Conover,  "do 
hereby  confess  that  I  conspired  with  one  Isadore 
Becker  to  abduct  Miss  Ethel  Pennington " 


320  CRAYON    CLUE 

Dreiser  laid  down  the  pen. 

"You  needn't  write  it  if  you  don't  want  to," 
said  Conover;  "in  that  case  I'll  start  my  suit 
against  you  tomorrow.  If  you  write  it,  I  won't 
start  anything.  I'll  just  hold  that  confession  as 
a  protection  against  any  future  deviltry  of  yours." 

Dreiser  moistened  his  dry  lips  again  and  yet 
again.  He  cleared  his  throat  and  finally  spoke, 
huskily  and  with  difficulty. 

"What  security,"  said  he,  "have  I  that  you 
would  not  use  any  alleged  confession  which  you 
may  force  out  of  me?" 

"The  security,"  said  Conover  promptly,  "that 
we  don't  wish  to  make  the  abduction  of  Miss 
Pennington  public.  If  you'll  lay  down  and  hold 
your  hand  we  won't  start  anything  against  you. 
That  is,  anything  personal.  The  campaign  will 
go  on,  on  its  merits.  But  if  you  try  any  more  of 
your  games  against  those  girls,  or  wag  your 
tongue  against  them  in  any  way,  you  or  your  tools, 
or  attempt  any  reprisal  for  our  presence  in  this 
house  or  for  anything  we  have  done  here  tonight, 
we'll  use  your  'alleged'  confession  and  use  it  good 
and  hard." 

"You  know  of  course,"  said  Dreiser,  "that  a 
confession  obtained  under  compulsion  is  void." 

"Under  fear  of  violence  maybe,"  said  Con- 
over, "but  nobody's  threatening  to  shoot  you, 
Dreiser.  What  I'm  threatening  is  to  start  crimi- 
nal proceedings  against  you.     If  you  haven't  any 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT   THE   MESSENGER   BOY      32 1 

fear  of  those  proceedings  go  on  and  defy  me,  as 
any  honest  man  would  do.'' 

Dreiser  took  up  the  pen  and  wrote,  Conover 
dictating. 

I,  Edmund  H.  Dreiser,  do  hereby  confess  that  I  con- 
spired with  one  Isadore  Becker  to  abduct  Miss  Ethel 
Pennington. 

I  confess  that  she  was  confined  by  my  orders  in  the 
house  at  52  Quinn  street  occupied  by  Julius  Krog,  an 
employe  of  my  own  in  the  office  of  superintendent  of  the 
Bartown  schools,  and  by  his  half  brother,  Isadore  Becker, 
and  by  his  mother,  Mrs.  Krog. 

I  confess  that  the  object  of  this  abduction  was  to  secure 
certain  letters  and  other  documents  which  show  me  to 
have  had  questionable  financial  relations  with  the  Colum- 
bian Book  Co.  and  the  Northwestern  School  Supply  Co. 
in  the  conduct  of  the  Bartown  schools,  said  documents 
being  now  in  the  possession  of  Miss  Wilhelmina  Pen- 
nington. 

I  confess  that  a  further  purpose  of  the  abduction  was 
to  compel  Miss  Wilhelmina  Pennington  to  withdraw 
from  the  municipal  campaign  now  in  progress  in  the  city 
of  Bartown  which  threatens  my  position  as  superintend- 
ent; and  further  to  punish  Miss  Pennington  for  having 
inspired  and  instigated  the  movement  against  the  present 
management  of  the  schools. 

I  confess  that  I  conspired  with  Isadore  Becker  to 
blackmail  Miss  Wilhelmina  Pennington  by  forcing  her 
to  give  up  the  documents  herein  described,  and  to  leave 
the  city  of  Bartown  and  withdraw  from  said  campaign, 
through  fears  of  injuries,  mental,  moral  and  physical, 
threatened  to  be  inflicted  on  her  sister,  Ethel  Pennington. 

(Signed)         Edmund  H.  Dreiser, 

Supt.  Schools. 
Bartown,  March  12,  19 — . 


322  CRAYON  CLUE 

Conover  read,  folded  and  placed  it  in  his 
pocketbook. 

"All  right,  Mr.  Dreiser,"  said  he,  smiling  and 
genial,  "we'll  go  now  and  leave  you  to  untie  your 
ankles  and  the  rest  of  your  conspirators  scattered 
around  the  house.  Then  you  can  call  up  the  po- 
lice and  have  us  arrested  for  housebreaking  if 
you  like." 

As  the  three  issued  from  the  room  a  messenger 
boy  rose  from  a  stool  placed  in  the  hall  just  out- 
side the  door  and  held  up  a  notebook. 

"I've  got  it  all  in  shorthand,"  said  he  owlishly; 
"I  came  in  just  after  Dreiser  and  thought  I  might 
as  well  take  it  down." 

Conover  burst  out  laughing. 

"Fd  like  to  see  anybody  get  ahead  of  you," 
said  he;  "hear  that,  Dreiser?  We've  got  this 
whole  interview  in  shorthand.  Come  on,  boys, 
time  to  get  a  short  nap  before  breakfast." 

"Wait,"  said  McPike.  He  went  into  the  old 
woman's  room  and  came  out  carrying  Ethel  Pen- 
nington's coat,  hat  and  dress. 

"Good  boy,  Mac,"  said  Conover. 

They  streamed  down  the  stairs  and  to  their 
astonishment  beheld  the  prostrate  form  of  a  man 
lying  on  the  floor,  the  detective  who  had  been  left 
on  guard  below  sitting  philosophically  beside  him 
in  a  chair,  gun  in  hand. 

"What's  this,"  exclaimed  Conover,  bending 
over  the  man. 


EXPLAINS   ABOUT  THE   MESSENGER   BOY     323 

"That's  Becker,"  said  Delia. 

*'0h,  that's  Becker,  is  it?  The  gentleman  that 
entertained  Billy  this  afternoon.  Where'd  you 
catch  him,  my  friend?" 

"He  come  a-sailing  in  here  with  a  latch-key," 
said  the  detective  hoarsely;  "plunged  in  without 
any  suspicion  at  all,  so  I  just  give  him  one  crack 
with  the  butt  of  my  gun  and  caught  'im  as  he  fell. 
Didn't  make  no  noise  at  all." 

"Well,  I  should  say  not,"  said  Conover;  "you 
must  be  an  artist  at  the  job." 

"I  know  him,"  said  the  hoarse  detective;  "he's 
a  slaver;  got  a  dozen  girls  working  for  him;  pro- 
tected, he  is;  pays  a  regular  rake-off  to  the  po- 
lice." 

"Is  he  dead?" 

"Him?  Oh,  no;  he'll  wake  up  with  a  head- 
ache bimeby." 

"It's  a  pity,"  said  Conover. 

The  streets  were  dark  and  silent  with  the  hush 
that  comes  before  the  milkman,  as  the  big  car 
plunged  away  through  the  keen  cold  of  the  March 
morning.  Conover  was  in  a  state  of  high  ex- 
citement. He  took  the  driver's  seat  and  as  he 
tore  away  up  the  avenue  at  racing  speed  he  let  out 
one  yell. 

"Gee,  what  a  night  I"  he  said.  "Say,  we've  got 
to  eat." 

He  drove  to  a  high-class  all-night  restaurant, 
and  ordered  a  royal  gorge  for  the  crowd.    Other 


324  CRAYON   CLUE 

late  patrons  looked  curiously  at  the  messenger 
boy  supping  sumptuously  with  the  five  men.  As 
for  that  young  person,  his  somewhat  morose  and 
cynical  countenance  had  taken  on  an  almost  human 
expression  of  excitement  and  enjoyment 


CHAPTER   XV 
Which  Sees  the  End  of  the  Campaign 

BILLY'S  last  job  on  that  campaign  was  to  or- 
ganize over  three  thousand  school  teachers 
of  Bartown  into  a  campaign  committee.  They 
said  nothing  in  their  schoolrooms,  but  after  school 
each  day,  and  all  day  Saturday  and  Sunday,  they 
went  to  the  homes  of  their  pupils;  and,  seizing 
a  hasty  meal  wherever  the  dinner  hour  might 
find  them,  canvassed  from  flat  to  flat  among  the 
tenements  until  bedtime  came. 

The  dinner  hour  and  after  were  indeed  the  best 
time  for  them,  for  then  they  caught  the  men  at 
home.  When  the  people  could  not  speak  Eng- 
lish, the  children  interpreted,  and  it  was  fre- 
quently an  exciting  and  festive  occasion  when 
youngsters  brought  their  own  teacher  home  with 
them,  to  see  their  own  father  and  mother.  Bot- 
tled soda  water  was  sent  for,  neighbors  were 
often  called  in,  and  the  teacher  expounded  her 
doctrine  to  a  whole  roomful,  giving  them  litera- 
ture to  take  away  with  them,  and  impressing  on 
them  the  necessity  of  getting  all  the  men  to  vote 
the  Citizens'  ticket  if  they  wanted  good  schools  in 

32s 


326  CRAYON   CLUE 

which  their  children  would  be  educated  to  be 
Americans.  It  was  a  splendid  exercise  in  democ- 
racy, for  both  the  teachers  and  the  tenement 
dwellers,  whether  the  campaign  won  or  not. 

There  was  scarcely  one  of  the  three  thousand 
members  of  the  Teachers'  Association  who  did 
not  take  a  hand  in  this,  and  fully  two  thousand 
of  them  did  it  regularly.  Those  two  thousand 
visited  not  less  than  five  homes  each  in  the  tene- 
ments every  night  for  two  weeks  before  election; 
one  hundred  and  forty  thousand  house  to  house 
visits  in  behalf  of  the  Citizens'  ticket  at  the  lowest 
computation.  But  often  a  roomful  of  people 
were  spoken  to  at  a  time. 

For  this  work  Billy  provided  her  famous 
"rainbow  flyers."  This  was  a  series  of  dodgers, 
printed  on  single  sheets  of  paper  of  the  various 
colors  of  the  rainbow,  each  color  having  its  own 
particular  bit  of  campaign  propaganda  set  forth 
in  short,  terse  sentences,  presenting  facts,  figures 
and  reasons  why  people  having  any  interest  in  the 
schools  should  vote  the  Citizens'  ticket,  in  such 
form  that  he  who  ran  might  read.  These  were 
printed  In  sixteen  different  languages  besides  Eng- 
lish, particularly  in  Yiddish  and  Italian.  For  the 
foreign  dodgers  Billy  went  to  the  ofHces  of  the 
various  foreign  papers  In  the  city,  both  for  trans- 
lation and  printing.  This  interested  these  papers, 
and  some  of  them  printed  the  leaflets  voluntarily 
In  their  papers  and  gave  them  favorable  editorial 


THE   END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  327 

mention.  Others  published  them  as  paid  matter. 
Others,  it  was  found,  were  owned  by  the  other 
side,  and  these  came  out  with  violent  vituperation 
against  the  "teacher  politicians." 

But  this  in  itself  called  attention  to  the  rain- 
bow flyers.  These  famous  little  dodgers  were 
distributed  by  hundreds  of  thousands  during 
those  last  two  stormy  weeks.  School  children 
took  them  home.  Teachers  left  a  bunch  of  them 
in  every  street  car  in  which  they  rode.  Foreign 
workers  were  employed  to  list  every  meeting  of 
any  sort,  kind  or  description  in  the  foreign  quar- 
ters, and  to  distribute  at  the  door  flyers  in  the 
language  of  the  meeting.  Speakers  in  every 
language  spoken  in  Bartown  were  poured  into 
these  meetings,  and  the  people  got  the  school  is- 
sue at  their  clubs,  unions,  benefit  societies,  social 
organizations,  and  every  other  sort,  kind  and 
description  of  association  in  which  the  hetero- 
geneous American  people  foregathers  to  entertain 
or  instruct  itself.  And  after  every  speech  the 
little  flyers  went  along  to  drive  the  nail  home  and 
preserve  the  recollection.  Billy's  use  of  the  flyers 
in  this  campaign  was  in  fact  the  origin  of  the 
widespread  adoption  of  this  form  of  propaganda 
literature  by  the  suffragists  over  the  country. 

The  sort  of  house  to  house  canvassing  the 
teachers  were  doing  would  not  have  been  strange 
to  English  women,  but  it  was  new  in  America, 
and  the  teachers  began  it  with  fear  and  trembling. 


328  CRAYON   CLUE 

But  as  they  gained  confidence  they  ventured  into 
the  little  shops  and  stores,  as  well  as  the  houses, 
and  talked  to  the  men  there  and  left  the  dodgers. 
In  the  course  of  this  two  or  three  came  almost 
simultaneously  to  Billy,  mourning  that  they  could 
not  go  into  the  saloons  for  this  purpose. 

"It  is  there  the  men  congregate  in  the  evening," 
they  said;  ''those  little  neighborhood  saloons  are 
the  local  clubs  and  gathering  places  for  the  men; 
they  sit  smoking  and  talking  and  playing  cards 
there  every  evening." 

A  corps  of  men  was  immediately  put  on  to  go 
from  one  saloon  to  another  every  evening,  talk- 
ing for  the  Citizens'  ticket  and  explaining  the 
school  issue.  But  it  was  left  for  Mrs.  Livingston 
to  furnish  the  star  feature  of  the  campaign  along 
this  line. 

"There  is  one  respectable  woman  who  goes 
into  the  saloons  of  Bartown  every  evening,"  said 
she,  "and  that's  the  Salvation  Army  lassie.  They 
go  through  the  saloons  to  sell  the  War  Cry, 
Only  those  who  can  carry  off  a  thing  like  that  with 
dignity  are  sent,  and  they  are  treated  with  respect 
and  given  contributions  in  the  saloons.  When- 
ever they  get  a  chance  they  say  a  word  to  a  man 
for  the  good  of  his  soul.  Let  us  see  what  can  be 
done  with  them." 

She  hastened  to  the  head  of  the  Salvation  Army 
"slum  sisters"  in  Bartown,  whom  she  had  already 
enlightened  and  converted  on  the  school  issue.  As 


THE   END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  329 

a  result  all  the  Army  newsglrls  were  called  to- 
gether and  instructed  In  the  school  issue  by  Mrs. 
Livingston  herself,  and  every  one  carried  the  rain- 
bow flyers  along  with  her  War  Cry  as  she  went 
through  the  saloons  and  elsewhere.  In  answer  to 
the  astonished  queries  which  this  evoked  in  the 
saloons,  each  "lassie"  was  ready  to  stop  and  tell 
all  she  knew  about  it. 

Perhaps  the  most  valuable  work  on  Billy's  cam- 
paign committee  was  done  by  Professor  Andrews. 
Many  parents  who  kept  their  children  when 
young  in  private  schools  sent  their  boys  to  the 
Boys'  Classical  High  to  prepare  for  college. 
The  fine,  high-stepping  youngsters  in  this  school, 
the  pick  of  the  pupils  in  the  whole  system,  be- 
came rabid  partisans  of  the  Citizens'  ticket.  Not 
one  word  was  said  on  politics  during  school  hours 
from  any  teacher's  rostrum,  and  yet  the  school 
was  alive  with  the  subject.  Some  hundreds  of 
these  boys  reported  to  Billy  In  the  headquarters 
which  had  been  provided  for  her  by  the  Citizens' 
committee,  placed  themselves  under  her  orders, 
took  out  bushels  of  the  flyers  for  distribution  at 
meetings  and  from  house  to  house  in  the  best 
residence  districts,  and  jawed  excitedly  at  home 
and  abroad  on  school  politics. 

Andrews  took  his  daily  stint  of  canvassing 
along  with  the  other  teachers  on  the  committee. 
The  city  was  full  of  his  "old  boys,"  now  in  offices 
of  their  own,  all  of  them  fond  of  Andrews.    He 


33^  CRAYON   CLUE 

put  In  all  the  time  he  could,   calling  personally 
and  by  telephone  on  these  men  to  solicit  their  in- 
terest for  the  Citizens'  ticket.     But  he  did  more 
than  that.     Mrs.  Andrews  gave  a  series  of  little 
dinners   to   "old  boys"    and   their   wives,   which 
were  purely  school  politics  dinners.     Also,  there 
was  an  Alumni  Association  of  the  Boys'  Classical 
High  in  town,  made  up  largely  of  young  or  young- 
ish professional  men,  all  old  boys  of  Andrews'. 
A  former  alumnus  who  had  acquired  some  dis- 
tinction In  foreign  parts  having  been  booked  some 
time  previous  for  a  visit  to  the  city,  Andrews  now 
engineered  a  banquet  of  the  Alumni  Association 
in  this  man's  honor.     It  was  a  toast  affair,  and 
the  professor  turned  his  toast  into  a  campaign 
speech.      It   was    a   characteristic   talk,   such   as 
every  man  present  remembered  to  have  heard 
from  him  more  than  once  at  morning  exercises, 
full  of  dry  jokes  and  personal  allusions,  which 
brought  roars  of  laughter  from  his  audience.    Its 
usefulness  to  the  Citizens'  ticket  was  very  great. 
Conover,  deprived  of  his  paper  and  his  money, 
could  not  have  wielded  a  tithe  of  the  influence  of 
Professor  Andrews.    In  fact,  Conover  more  than 
once  in  that  campaign  deplored  his  lack  of  boy- 
hood acquaintances  and  old  schoolmates  in  the 
town  of  his  birth.     As  a  boy  he  had  been  kept  in 
a  fashionable  expensive  boys'  school  in  a  distant 
state,  passing  from  that  to  one  of  the  great  uni- 
versities. 


THE    END   OF    THE    CAMPAIGN  33 1 

"We  went  to  school  together,"  defines  the 
rtrongest  personal  tie  after  that  of  the  family;  the 
one  most  intertwined  with  childhood  and  early 
associations,  and  intimate  personal  life.  This  tie 
Conover  almost  entirely  lacked  in  Bartown. 

"I  never  would  do  it  with  any  boy  of  mine," 
said  he  seriously  to  Billy  one  day;  "any  son  of 
mine  will  go  to  school  in  his  own  town  while  he's 
a  kid,  and  to  the  public  schools,  too." 

Conover  was  pouring  out  his  money  like  water 
these  days.  The  Citizens'  committee  of  course 
had  an  immense  amount  of  campaign  work  aside 
from  Billy's,  which  has  not  been  described  because 
this  book  is  telling  Billy's  story.  But  Conover,  in 
addition  to  the  support  of  his  paper  and  his  heavy 
financial  contributions  to  the  general  campaign 
committee,  stated  to  the  latter  that  he  would  be 
responsible  for  all  expenses  incurred  by  the  Teach- 
ers' committee. 

The  Citizens  had  first  given  Billy  a  desk  in 
one  of  their  office  rooms.  The  surge  of  people 
to  see  her  required  first  a  new  large  office  and 
then  a  suite  of  them,  hastily  fitted  up  between 
dark  and  daylight.  To  their  astonishment  the 
school  issue  became  the  biggest  end  of  the  cam- 
paign.   The  tail  began  to  wag  the  dog. 

Things  can  be  put  through  fast  and  at  high 
pressure  when  one  doesn't  have  to  even  think  of 
the  expense.  In  her  work  of  months  past  Billy 
had   been    gathering    into    her    hands    countless 


23^  CRAYON   CLUE 

threads  of  acquaintance  and  personal  association. 
When  she  wanted  a  thing  done,  she  knew  where 
to  get  the  right  person  to  do  it,  or  if  she  didn't  the 
wide  personal  acquaintance  of  the  two  McPikes, 
and  of  Mrs.  Courtney,  Mrs.  Livingston,  Profes- 
sor Andrews  and  his  old  boys,  and  all  the  rest  of 
her  tried  and  faithful  colleagues  was  at  her  ser- 
vice. She  knew  where  to  get  a  man  or  a  woman 
at  short  notice,  to  put  them  to  work  instantly,  and 
slam  things  through  at  express  speed.  She  could 
get  things  done  at  this  high  pressure  rate  because 
she  had  her  own  knowledge  and  Conover's  money 
to  work  with.  She  never  stopped  to  ask  the  cost 
of  her  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dodgers.  She 
paid  people  what  they  asked  to  do  the  thing  she 
wanted.  She  did  not  have  to  economize  on  tele- 
phone bills  or  taxicabs,  or  painfully  count  the  dol- 
lars remaining  in  the  treasury  as  most  women's 
organizations  do. 

Sara  McPike  was  whirled  out  of  her  schooir 
room  and  put  in  as  Billy's  deputy.  Denny,  swept 
from  his  Democratic  moorings  like  hundreds  of 
men  who  were  cutting  loose  from  their  old  party 
ties,  was  working  day  and  night  among  the  trades 
unions.  Billy  set  up  a  blackboard  in  her  head- 
quarters, with  a  plentiful  supply  of  chalk  from  the 
Bartown  schools.  Before  it  she  placed  Kate 
Miller,  to  explain  and  illustrate  its  iniquities  to 
all  comers. 

Sara  took  Kate  in  hand  before  she  was  launched 


THE    END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  333 

upon  the  public.  Sara  came  from  the  race  which 
supplies  all  the  French  modistes  in  America.  She 
dressed  Kate  Miller's  thin  gray  locks  until  they 
made  a  cloud  of  fine,  spun  silver  about  her  schol- 
arly brow.  She  gowned  her  in  a  silver  gray 
shantung  which  just  matched  her  hair.  Thus  ac- 
coutred, a  pleasing  and  agreeable  object  on  which 
to  rest  the  eye,  Miss  Miller  made  use  of  those 
teaching  abilities  which  had  made  her  famous. 
With  a  mind  drilled  for  thirty  years  on  the  higher 
mathematics  she  inexorably  drove  home  to  all  and 
sundry  the  reasons  why  the  teachers  of  Bartown 
were,  so  to  speak,  mildly  in  favor  of  a  change  in 
the  school  administration.  It  came  In  a  round- 
about way  to  Billy  that  nothing  else  in  the  cam- 
paign annoyed  Mr.  Dreiser  so  much  as  this 
placing  of  Miss  Miller  in  the  limelight. 

It  was  a  life-and-death  matter  with  the  teach- 
ers now.  They  had  burned  their  bridges  behind 
them.  It  was  hardly  possible  that  any  school 
board  could  discharge  three  thousand  teachers  in 
a  bunch,  but  nevertheless  the  failure  of  the  Citi- 
zens would  leave  them  individually  in  a  mighty 
precarious  and  disagreeable  position.  They  gave 
a  kind  of  service  which  cannot  be  hired  or  bought. 
The  city  was  alive  with  them  and  their  raving 
friends  and  relatives.  Channels  where  no  one 
would  ever  have  expected  to  find  it  were  per- 
meated with  the  feeling  they  had  aroused,  and  it 
was  a  feeling  of  hatred  and  bitterness.    The  in- 


334  CRAYON   CLUE 

suits  and  injustices  of  the  whole  Dreiser  regime, 
smouldering  underground  since  the  death  of  Dr. 
Haswell,  had  burst  forth  in  a  leaping  flame.  Even 
women  appointed  by  Dreiser  were  swept  Into  the 
melee.  They  too  had  suffered,  often  more  than 
the  others,  because  of  the  shameful  monthly  tax 
which  many  of  them  had  been  obliged  to  pay. 
That  tax,  by  the  way,  was  not  collected  for  the 
month  of  March.  Conover  had  matters  ar- 
ranged with  the  Bram  people  to  trail  and  secure 
evidence  against  Krog;  but  he  did  not  make  his 
accustomed  rounds.  The  girl  who  had  revealed 
the  matter  to  Billy,  convinced  that  her  action  had 
removed  the  Imposition  at  one  stroke,  in  com- 
pany with  her  associates  of  the  taxed  brigade,  be- 
gan to  talk  freely  of  what  she  had  endured  among 
the  other  teachers.  It  was  the  last  spur  needed 
to  the  old  teachers,  for  should  the  ticket  fail  it 
might  be  the  next  thing  applied  to  themselves. 

The  campaign  was  a  whirlwind  during  those 
last  two  weeks,  the  last  week  of  March  and  the 
first  of  April.  Billy  did  not  sleep  more  than  five 
hours  any  night,  and  Conover  averaged  barely 
four.  All  day  and  up  to  a  late  hour  each  even- 
ing she  sat  in  her  headquarters,  planning  and  di- 
recting, with  periodical  forays  into  the  enemy's 
country  for  speechmaking.  Every  ounce  of  train- 
ing, experience,  strength,  vitality  and  knowledge 
which  she  gained  In  her  entire  life  was  drafted 
into    service    for   that  high   pressure   fortnight. 


THE    END   OF   THE    CAMPAIGN  335 

Teaching  school  Is  not  a  bad  preparation  for  that 
sort  of  thing,  when  done  well  and  successfully.  It 
is  In  Its  essence  the  control  and  manipulation  of 
people  in  the  mass,  the  guidance  of  their  thought 
and  action,  the  awakening  of  their  Intellect  and 
the  Instruction  of  their  InteUIgence.  Transplanted 
by  circumstances  and  by  her  own  brains  and  tem- 
perament into  a  wider  sphere  of  action,  Billy 
simply  used  the  methods  and  faculties  developed 
in  the  schoolroom.  And  permeating  all  her  work 
was  the  dynamic  quality  which  comes  when  deep 
personal  wrath,  personal  anger,  personal  hatred 
and  desire  for  vengeance  feel  themselves 
righteous  and  allied  to  a  righteous  cause. 

Not  one  word  was  said  against  Dreiser  in  his 
capacity  as  an  individual  and  a  private  citizen. 
The  campaign  was  fought  out  on  its  merits  as  a 
public  issue,  and  he  was  criticised,  as  he  had  been 
from  the  first,  solely  in  his  capacity  as  adminis- 
trator of  the  school  system. 

The  other  side,  in  its  turn,  breathed  no  word  of 
Ethel  Pennington.  No  hint  of  her  four  days' 
absence  from  home  had  ever  been  made  public. 
Aside  from  Bram's  agency  and  the  perpetrators 
of  the  outrage,  It  was  known  to  only  Delia,  the 
McPIkes  and  Conover  outside  the  family.  It  was 
a  part  of  Bram's  business  to  keep  the  secrets  en- 
trusted to  them,  and  the  four  friends  could  be 
depended  on.    To  every  one  else  Ethel  was  simply 


336  CRAYON   CLUE 

at  home  sick;  a  fact  now  true,  though  it  had  not 
been  for  four  days. 

For  the  first  thirty-six  hours  after  her  return 
they  feared  complete  nervous  breakdown  for  the 
girl.  She  trembled  when  awake  and  cried  out 
when  asleep.  But  young,  healthy  persons,  whose 
digestion  is  good,  will  rally  from  any  mental 
anguish,  especially  when  that  anguish  is  removed. 
Ethel  had  suffered  no  physical  hardship,  except- 
ing four  days  of  deprivation  of  air  and  exercise, 
and  of  almost  entire  sleeplessness.  At  the  end  of 
thirty-six  hours,  much  of  it  spent  under  opiates, 
her  extreme  nervousness  abated,  and  they  let  her 
tell  her  story.  Billy  had  guessed  rightly  as  to  the 
device  which  accomplished  the  abduction. 

"Why,  it  was  the  most  natural  thing,"  faltered 
the  girl  as  she  told  her  story  with  many  sobs  and 
pauses;  "I  had  just  stepped  out  of  the  car  there 
at  Hickox  and  L  where  you  transfer,  I  had 
scarcely  put  my  foot  on  the  pavement,  when  a 
motor  car  swept  up  beside  me  and  a  man  stepped 
out  and  lifted  his  hat. 

"  *This  is  Miss  Ethel  Pennington?'  he  said,  and 
then  went  on  to  tell  me  that  Billy  had  been  taken 
very  ill.  He  said  she  had  been  taken  in  the  car 
on  the  way  to  the  meeting  with  Sara,  and  that 
they  had  stopped  and  taken  her  into  a  doctor's 
office.  He  had  been  sent  for  the  family  and  had 
reached  the  house  just  after  I  left.  He  said  he 
found  Conover  there  with  his  car,  and  that  he 


THE    END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  337 

had  gone  straight  to  Billy  with  mother  and  Edith, 
and  had  sent  him  to  follow  me  up  and  bring  me 
to  the  house.  I  asked  him  what  was  the  matter 
with  Billy  and  he  said  it  was  angina. 

"Then,  of  course,  I  was  terribly  frightened,  for 
I  knew  angina  can  come  in  just  that  way,  and  peo- 
ple drop  dead  of  it  in  the  streets  when  no  one 
knew  they  had  anything  the  matter  with  their 
hearts,  and  poor  Billy  had  been  working  so  hard 
and  we  were  all  so  worried  for  fear  she  wouldn't 
hold  out.  So  I  stepped  right  into  the  car  and  we 
just  flew.  When  we  got  to  the  house  they  hur- 
ried me  right  up  to  that  room  and  the  minute  I 
was  inside  they  locked  the  door. 

"Afterward  the  old  woman  came  in  and  made 
me  undress,  and  took  away  all  my  clothes  and  my 
shoes  and  stockings,  and  left  me  just  a  nightgown 
and  a  wrapper  to  put  over  it,  so  even  if  I  could 
have  got  out  I  couldn't  have  gone  on  the  street. 
And  then  I  had  to  do  every  single  thing  he  told 
me  to,  or  he  told  me — he  told  me — if  I  didn't  do 

everything  he  said,   he  would — he  would " 

She  stopped  in  an  agony. 

The  question  had  to  be  asked  and  Billy  whis- 
pered, "Did  he  ever,  Ethel?" 

"No,"  sobbed  the  girl;  "if  he  had  I  wouldn't 
have  been  afraid  any  more;  there  wouldn't  have 
been  anything  to  be  afraid  of.  It  was  because  I 
was  so  deadly  afraid  of  him  that  I  wrote  those  let- 
ters to  him,  and  let  the  photograph  be  taken,  and 


338  CRAYON   CLUE 

did  everything  else  he  told  me.  But  I  never  told 
him  where  the  papers  were,  those  Dreiser  papers, 
you  know,  Billy." 

"Yes,  darling,"  said  Billy. 

"He  asked  me  If  I  knew  where  they  were,  and 
I  told  him  I  didn't,  and  he  threatened  me,  but  I 
said  I  didn't  know,  and  so  then  he  believed  me. 
But  of  course  I  did  know  all  the  time,  Billy." 

"Yes,  Ethel,"  said  Billy,  In  a  voice  scarcely 
audible. 

"So  then  one  morning  he  unlocked  my  door  and 
had  that  other  man,  the  one  he  called  Jule  stand- 
ing there,  and  asked  me  if  I'd  like  to  talk  to  you, 
Billy,  over  the  phone.  He  tried  to  get  you  sev- 
eral times  before  he  could,  but  finally  you  an- 
swered, and  he  said,  'Is  that  you,  Miss  Pen- 
nington?' and  then  he  handed  the  receiver  to  me. 
But  the  minute  I  said,  'Billy,  Billy,'  this  Jule 
clapped  his  hand  over  my  mouth  and  pulled  me 
away  into  the  bedroom  and  kept  his  hand  over 
my  mouth  till  the  other  had  finished  talking.  But 
I  never  dared  to  scream  anyway,  because  he  told 

me  that  If  I  screamed  just  once  he  would '* 

She  went  off  into  a  trembling  fit  and  they  urged 
her  to  silence  and  sleep. 

"But  just  tell  me  first,"  she  said  feebly,  "how 
you  ever  found  me.  How  did  Delia  ever  get  in- 
side that  house  and  yell  that  parowax  thing?  It 
was  Delia,  wasn't  it?  I  thought  at  first  it  must 
be  Denny,  but  it  wasn't  Denny's  voice,  and  the 


THE    END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  339 

voice  was  queer  and  I  wasn't  sure,  but  I  thought 
It  must  be  Delia's." 

They  thought  it  wise  for  her  to  have  her  mind 
taken  as  much  away  from  her  own  recollections  as 
possible,  and  so  told  her  Delia's  part  in  that  wild 
night. 

It  seemed  that  Miss  Perkins  had  a  nephew,  her 
sister's  son,  who  was  a  messenger  boy.  The  youth 
was  of  about  her  own  size,  although  some  nine 
years  younger,  of  much  her  saturnine  and  inquir- 
ing disposition,  and  they  were  great  chums.  The 
idea  had  arrived  to  her  of  trying  on  an  old  suit 
of  his,  and  of  securing  a  wig  at  a  costumer's  to 
go  with  it.  When  this  was  done,  and  her  own 
thin  hair  plastered  tight  to  her  head,  the  wig 
properly  adjusted  and  the  mesenger  boy's  cap 
pulled  well  down,  there  was  nothing  to  reveal  her 
sex  to  anyone  who  had  no  suspicion  of  it.  She 
looked  like  one  of  those  sawed-off,  old  young 
youths  who  are  not  uncommon  in  the  big  cities. 

Miss  Perkins,  owing  to  her  looks  and  tempera- 
ment, had  not  the  opportunities  for  amusement 
and  diversion  which  come  to  more  favored  and 
ordinary  young  women.  As  she  put  it  herself,  "It 
ain't  all  because  I  ain't  handsome,  because  bum- 
mer-lookin'  girls  'n  I  am  gets  a  beau." 

It  was,  in  fact,  partially  because  no  young  man 
of  Delia's  station  in  life,  who  would  have  been 
likely  to  ask  so  plain  and  unalluring  a  girl  to  go 
to  the  show  with  him,  would  have  come  up  to 


340  CRAYON   CLUE 

Della^s  mental  requirements.  On  the  very  few 
occasions  when  things  of  this  kind  had  happened 
to  her  Delia  had  been  much  bored  with  the  poor 
youth,  and  taking  no  pains  to  conceal  the  fact  had 
of  course  received  no  second  invitation.  She  had 
been  accustomed  in  her  office  work  to  associate 
with  men  of  a  calibre  far  above  that  of  any  mis- 
guided male  likely  to  take  her  to  the  moving  pic- 
tures or  for  the  innocuous  dish  of  Ice  cream  upon 
a  summer  evening.  Such  pleasures  also,  whether 
with  or  without  a  gentleman  escort,  impressed 
Delia  as  very  tame. 

Nevertheless  every  human  being  especially 
when  young  must  have  some  amusement,  and 
Delia  got  In  the  way  of  taking  hers  by  going  forth 
with  her  hopeful  nephew  upon  his  rounds.  She 
had  seen  some  queer  places  and  acquired  much 
queer  Information  In  his  company,  and  in  the  ex- 
citement of  these  nocturnal  prowls  found  food 
for  a  mind  too  active  for  the  mental  pabulum  of 
a  Bartown  boarding  house. 

Upon  the  day  of  Billy's  interview  in  the  sweat- 
shop tenement,  indeed  about  the  hour  when  Billy 
must  have  been  departing  from  that  seance,  a 
man  had  called  up  her  office  and  asked  If  Mr. 
Brackett  were  there.  Upon  receiving  a  negative 
answer  he  had  said,  "When  he  comes  in  tell  him 
to  come  down  to  the  old  place  tonight." 

"Any  name  or  address?"  asked  Miss  Perkins. 


THE    END   OF   THE    CAMPAIGN  34 1 

"No,  he'll  understand,"  replied  the  man 
shortly,  and  rang  off. 

This  message  struck  Delia  as  slightly  unusual, 
and  her  mind  was  on  the  watch  for  unusual 
things,  being  fixed  with  painful  intensity  on  the 
fact  of  Ethel  Pennington's  disappearance,  and 
convinced  without  question  that  Dreiser  and  his 
gang  were  responsible  for  it.  So  when  she  gave 
Brackett  the  message  she  watched  his  face.  A 
fleeting  expression  crossed  that  massive  physiog- 
nomy which  further  roused  her  suspicions.  One 
can  no  more  describe  an  expression  of  the  face 
than  convey  to  another  a  strain  of  music  by  talk- 
ing about  it.  Mysterious  and  uncanny  Is  that 
process  of  nature  by  which  a  passing  thought  in 
the  mind  will  move  the  apparently  motionless 
muscles  of  the  face  In  such  a  way  as  to  reveal 
something  to  the  observer. 

Without  psychologizing  the  matter  Delia  had 
decided  to  trail  Brackett  that  night,  with  the  re- 
sults that  we  have  seen.  She  took  along  some 
money  with  her,  being  quite  sure  that  were  she 
obliged  to  spend  It  she  would  be  reimbursed;  and 
within  twenty-four  hours  after  that  supper  at 
which  we  left  her  enjoying  herself  for  once, 
Bram's  agency  had  offered  her  a  place  upon  Its 
staff  at  twice  the  salary  she  was  getting. 

"Did  you  ever?"  concluded  Billy.  "They  say 
they  always  need  at  least  one  woman  on  the  staff, 
and  it's  hard  to  get  one  that's  any  good  as  a  de- 


342  CRAYON   CLUE 

tective.  She  refused  to  leave  the  office  till  the 
campaign  is  over.  She  said  she  thought  some  one 
ought  to  be  there  to  keep  a  watch  on  Brackett's 
telephone.  And  do  you  know,  neither  Dreiser 
nor  Brackett  has  ever  so  much  as  suspected  that 
she  had  anything  to  do  with  us  at  all !  She  quits 
the  day  after  election,  and  her  salary  goes  from 
fifteen  a  week  to  thirty  at  one  jump." 

"You  don't  say,"  ejaculated  Ethel,  her  thoughts 
taken  from  her  own  horror  for  the  first  time; 
"well,  I'm  glad  the  affair  was  some  good  to  some- 
body." 

The  chief  effect  of  the  nervous  shock  the  girl 
had  received  was  her  continual  worry  over  Billy. 
Every  minute  that  Billy  was  out  of  the  house, 
especially  at  night,  she  was  in  misery;  and  as 
Billy  needed  to  be  out  until  ii  or  12  o'clock  at 
night  from  then  on  until  election,  it  was  a  prob- 
lem. But  she  consented  to  go  away  to  her  Aunt 
Myrtle,  Mrs.  Pennington's  sister,  of  whom  she 
was  very  fond,  with  whom  she  could  have  both 
change  of  scene  and  home  care.  Mrs.  Penning- 
ton took  her  there  and  then  returned,  reporting 
her  already  better  for  the  change. 

Her  mind  at  rest  concerning  Ethel,  Billy 
plunged  into  the  campaign  with  the  electric  vim 
which  has  been  described.  Conover  also  was 
working  with  enormous  energy.  The  great  plant 
of  the  Forum  fairly  quivered  as  he  drove  it  with 
shock  after  shock  against  the  combined  opposi- 


THE   END   OF  THE   CAMPAIGN  343 

tion.  His  reporters,  bleary  with  overwork  and 
undersleep,  kept  a  wary  eye  on  old  "Before 
Christ,"  as  they  had  blasphemously  nicknamed 
him  from  his  initials,  and  wondered  with  some 
anxiety  if  he  were  intending  to  remain  perma- 
nently in  politics. 

Looking  at  the  public  aspects  of  the  campaign, 
the  observer  would  have  supposed  that  of  course 
the  Citizens  were  bound  to  win.  The  Repub- 
licans and  Democrats  held  few  meetings,  did  little 
campaigning  of  any  kind,  excepting  through  their 
papers,  which  kept  up  a  continual  angry  attack. 
These  papers  had  once  more  turned  their  batter- 
ies upon  the  Teachers'  Association.  For  years 
they  had  seen  successive  mayors  of  Bartown  make 
political  awards  of  positions  on  the  School  Board. 
For  years  they  had  seen  school  lands  and  school 
buildings  manipulated  entirely  by  politics,  and  had 
found  nothing  to  say  of  the  schools  excepting  an 
occasional  uplifting  editorial  upon  the  duties  of 
teachers.  Now  they  were  shocked  and  dismayed 
at  the  spectacle  of  the  teachers  in  politics.  They 
promised  faithfully  that  steps  would  be  taken  to 
prevent  any  repetition  of  so  disgraceful  an  exhi- 
bition. They  wept  salt  tears  over  the  degrada- 
tion of  the  school  system,  the  non-partisan  char- 
acter of  which  had  been  the  pride  of  all  good  citi- 
zens. They  slurred  Billy  as  the  political  boss  and 
walking  delegate  of  the  Teachers'  Association; 
they  held  up  Conover  as  the  man  who  had  cast 


344  CRAYON    CLUE 

reflections  upon  the  character  of  his  dead  grand- 
father; a  hard  thing  for  Conover  to  bear,  and 
one  which  he  had  to  stand  in  silence.  But  the 
teachers  no  longer  minded.  They  had  learned 
that  nobody  is  attacked  in  the  papers  until  he 
amounts  to  something,  one  way  or  another. 

Aside  from  the  papers,  the  old  parties  seemed 
to  be  doing  very  little  campaigning.  But  those 
who  understood  politics  knew  on  what  they  were 
relying.  They  relied  first  on  the  solid  masses  of 
men  who  vote  their  own  party  ticket  and  cannot 
be  made  to  vote  anything  else.  They  relied  next 
on  the  entire  body  of  men  financially  interested 
in  the  present  regime ;  from  those  holding  valua- 
ble contracts  for  municipal  work,  down  through 
the  oflUce  employes  and  police  force  of  a  great 
city,  to  the  army  of  street  cleaners  and  their 
friends.  These  formed  the  machine,  which  under- 
stood the  carrying  of  elections  and  the  whole 
business  of  managing  the  politics  of  the  city.  It 
depended  also  on  those  solid  blocks  of  votes  in 
the  slum  districts  which  are  always  voted  under 
the  instructions  of  the  police,  being  composed  of 
persons  who  in  one  way  or  another,  either  be- 
cause they  are  breaking  laws,  or  because  they 
want  a  liberal  interpretation  of  the  law  in  the  busi- 
ness they  are  carrying  on,  can  be  forced  by  the 
police  to  vote  as  they  are  told. 

This  seems  an  invincible  obstacle  to  overcome, 
and  many  timid  persons  think  that  this  element 


THE   END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  345 

always  carries  municipal  elections.  Nothing  of 
the  kind  is  true,  because  if  it  were  there  would 
never  be  a  change  of  the  party  in  power  in  any 
city.  The  party  that  once  got  in  would  stay  in 
forever,  which  is  not  the  case  at  all.  But  in  Bar- 
town  a  dangerous  deal  had  been  made  between  the 
two  old  parties.  The  Republicans  were  in  power, 
but  Bartown  went  Democratic  often  enough  to 
keep  an  active  Democratic  machine  in  lively  ex- 
istence. This  machine  had  started  out  in  all  good 
faith  to  put  up  a  fight  that  would  turn  the  rascals 
out.  But  late  in  the  campaign,  becoming  alarmed 
at  the  growth  of  the  Citizens'  movement,  the  two 
parties  entered  Into  a  combination  by  which  half 
of  each  ticket  was  to  be  sacrificed,  each  party 
voting  for  certain  specified  candidates  on  Its  own 
ticket  and  certain  ones  on  the  other;  the  Repub- 
lican mayor  already  in  office  being  slated  to  suc- 
ceed himself  in  this  combine.  The  word  was 
passed  down  the  line  in  both  party  machines  to 
Instruct  the  voters  and  workers  to  this  effect. 

The  two  old  parties  will  Invariably  form  some 
combination  of  this  nature  in  American  cities  when 
they  see  the  governing  power  in  actual  danger  of 
seizure  by  an  independent  movement,  like  a  fight- 
ing husband  and  wife  who  will  instantly  combine  to 
trounce  an  Intruder.  If  they  get  sufficiently  scared 
before  the  nominations  are  made,  they  will  nom- 
inate a  Demo-Rep  ticket,  the  elephant  and  the 
donkey  trotting  amicably  together  in  harness  in- 


34^  CRAYON   CLUE 

Stead  of  endeavoring  to  assassinate  each  other. 
This  combination  is  growing  more  frequent,  fore- 
cast of  the  future  when  both  Democratic  and  Re- 
publican parties  will  disappear,  as  the  old  Whig 
party  did  before  them,  and  their  remnants  will 
fuse  into  one  organization,  rearing  up  defiantly  to 
meet  the  great  new  party  which  will  arise  to  deal 
with  new  and  burning  questions,  as  the  Republican 
party  rose  in  Its  day  and  generation. 

As  yet,  however,  this  combination  has  been  al- 
most impossible  to  beat,  and  sounds  the  death- 
knell  of  any  third  party  that  provokes  it.  The 
present  combination,  necessarily  made  In  secret, 
when  the  campaign  was  well  along,  was  a  more 
difficult  and  complicated  thing  to  carry  out.  Nev- 
ertheless Conover  looked  very  grave  when  he 
heard  that  it  had  been  arranged.  He  had  hoped 
that  the  Citizens  might  slip  in  between  the  two 
old  parties,  as  such  movements  frequently  do, 
without  awakening  their  alarm  sufficiently  to  bring 
about  the  deal.  He  declared  in  the  Forum  that 
the  deal  had  been  made,  and  hammered  away 
every  day  at  the  strict  party  men,  to  show  them 
that  their  own  machines  had  sold  them  out  and 
were  working  to  give  half  their  ticket  to  the  other 
party. 

The  terrible  lack  of  the  Citizens  was  organiza- 
tion. They  held  great  and  enthusiastic  public 
meetings,  the  headquarters  were  thronged,  but  in 
hundreds  of  precincts  of  the  city  they  had  no 


THE    END   OF   THE    CAMPAIGN  347 

committeemen  to  look  after  their  interests.  In 
many  districts  there  were  no  chairmen.  They  had 
none  of  the  judges  or  clerks  of  election.  Under 
the  law  they  were  entitled  to  nothing  excepting 
watchers  at  the  polls.  There  was  a  well-grounded 
belief  that  should  they  win  the  election  it  would 
be  stolen  from  them  on  the  count. 

It  was  on  this  side  of  the  game  that  Conover 
was  working  night  and  day;  to  get  chairmen  and 
committeemen  In  every  voting  district  and  pre- 
cinct; to  organize  a  body  of  watchers  for  every 
polling  place  In  the  city  who  would  be  on  duty 
all  day  election  day,  and  until  the  last  vote  was 
counted  and  returns  made  at  night.  He  wanted 
those  watchers  to  be  men  of  a  personal  character 
and  a  standing  in  the  community  that  would  com- 
mand respect;  respect  from  the  polling  place  offi- 
cials on  election  day,  and  respect  in  the  courts 
thereafter  should  suits  for  fraud  arise  later.  It 
was  a  herculean  task.  The  Citizens  had  no  great 
body  of  office  holders  and  employes,  each  with 
his  own  friends  and  relatives,  to  do  this  work  for 
them.  They  could  hold  out  no  efficient  prospect 
of  thousands  of  jobs  to  be  awarded  to  political 
workers.  The  thing  had  to  be  done  through  pub- 
lic spirit,  or  through  funds  supplied  from  private 
pockets. 

When  public  Indignation  rises  high  enough  in 
an  American  city  all  the  machinery  for  the  con- 
trol of  government  herein  described  goes  down 


34^  CRAYON   CLUE 

like  a  house  of  cards,  buried  under  the  snowstorm 
of  ballots  piled  upon  It.  This  has  been  signally 
the  case  with  LIndsey,  judge  of  the  Juvenile  Court 
in  Denver.  Time  after  time  both  old  parties  have 
combined  against  him,  and  the  entire  vicious  ele- 
ment of  the  city,  Including  the  unfortunate  women 
and  their  male  companions,  has  been  polled 
against  him.  Yet  he  has  been  elected  each  time, 
with  no  patronage  to  bestow,  and  no  corporations 
to  pay  the  expenses  of  his  campaign.  "But,"  as 
Billy  said  ruefully,  *'of  course  the  women  vote  out 
there.  If  we  had  the  women  we'd  be  all  right 
this  time." 

As  it  was  the  case  went  to  the  jury  in  Bartown 
with  all  the  friends  whose  fortunes  we  have  fol- 
lowed in  this  little  story  in  absolute  uncertainty  as 
to  the  verdict. 

Election  day  was  a  legal  holiday.  More  than 
two  thousand  teachers,  freed  from  their  class- 
rooms, stood  at  the  polling  places  of  Bartown  and 
worked  for  the  Citizens'  ticket  all  day.  Assign- 
ing them  to  their  places  had  been  Billy's  last  task 
of  the  campaign.  Upon  their  breasts  they  wore 
large  white  satin  badges  with  the  words, 

The  Teachers  Want 

Clough 

For  Mayor. 

THERE'S  A  REASON. 


THE    END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  349 

For  the  Citizens  were  centring  their  efforts  on 
the  mayor,  whose  vast  appointive  power  made 
him  by  far  the  most  important  figure  in  the  city 
government. 

The  teachers  were  not  alone  in  their  work.  Up 
in  the  residence  districts  members  of  the  Woman's 
Club  were  out  under  Mrs.  Courtney.  In  the 
poorest  quarters  of  the  city  Mrs.  Livingston  was 
marshalling  her  Salvation  Army  lasses  and  her 
factory  girls.  And  at  the  last  moment  Mrs. 
Jimmy  Wyndham  swept  down  to  the  fray  with 
a  flying  squadron  of  young  society  women.  Mrs. 
Jimmy  was  a  good  httle  sort  who  spent  her  life 
in  frivoling,  yet  was  unable  to  frivol  with  entire 
frivolity  because  she  had  a  Conover  brain.  She 
had  once  in  her  life  gone  out  and  canvassed  for 
votes  with  an  American  Primrose  duchess  in 
whose  house  she  was  visiting,  and  it  struck  her 
as  the  highest  kind  of  a  lark  to  do  the  same  in 
the  city  of  her  birth.  No  residence  districts  for 
her,  no,  no.  Some  place  where  there  might  be 
trouble;  did  they  expect  any  rows  at  any  of  the 
polling  places;  any  shooting?  Billy  smiled  grimly 
as  she  assigned  her  to  one  of  the  toughest  wards 
in  the  city,  along  with  a  blue  bonneted  Salvation 
Army  captain. 

Every  teacher  had  been  instructed  to  list  all 
friendly  voters,  so  far  as  possible,  in  the  precincts 
in  which  she  had  canvassed,  and  bright  and  early 
they  were  out  in  automobiles  gathering  them  up 


350  CRAYON    CLUE 

and  taking  them  to  the  polls.  The  boys  from  the 
Classical  High  were  acting  as  aide  de  camp  at 
every  polling  place;  and  Andrews'  "old  boys" 
formed  the  efficient  and  devoted  committeemen, 
challengers  and  watchers  In  many  a  precinct. 

All  day  Billy  had  covered  the  city  In  her  car, 
driving  from  precinct  to  precinct,  seeing  that  her 
workers  were  present,  filling  vacancies,  carrying 
people  from  place  to  place,  doing  the  thousand 
and  one  things  that  rise  for  the  executive  head 
to  do  on  such  an  occasion. 

At  7.30  o'clock  the  polls  closed.  She  knew  that 
the  count  could  not  be  completed  for  hours,  and 
she  went  straight  home  without  speaking  to  any- 
one. Her  work  was  over,  there  was  nothing  more 
that  she  could  do.  She  was  tired,  body  and  soul; 
and  In  her  heart  was  a  strange  sinking.  The  glori- 
ous campaign  was  over.  It  had  been  a  thing  to 
have  lived  for,  even  If  It  had  failed.  But  life 
ahead  of  her  looked  dull  and  flat.  That  deadly 
depression  which  follows  overstrain  had  her  In 
Its  grip.  What  was  she  to  set  herself  to,  now  that 
the  great  campaign  was  over?  Now  that  this 
great,  wonderful,  absorbing  thing,  the  campaign, 
which  had  filled  her  life  and  soul  and  being,  was 
eliminated? 

She  was  conscious  of  only  one  thing;  the  enor- 
mous folly  of  trying  to  fight  the  massed  powers 
which  held  the  schools  in  the  clutch  of  their  ma- 
chine; the  foolish,  silly  folly  of  beating  human 


THE   END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  35 1 

flesh  and  blood,  human  hearts  and  hopes,  human 
enthusiasm  and  patriotism,  against  the  insensate 
thing  of  gold  and  graft. 

When  her  mother's  voice  said  "Billy?"  as  she 
entered  the  door,  she  did  not  answer.  Mrs.  Pen- 
nington flew  to  meet  her. 

"Billy?"  she  said,  a  note  of  exquisite,  almost 
painful  maternal  tenderness  in  her  voice;  "Billy? 
Oh,  my  poor  child,  you're  done  out." 

She  did  not  speak.  Silently  and  swiftly  they 
undressed  her,  put  on  her  warm  wrapper,  fed  her 
and  stretched  her  out  upon  the  outside  of  her  bed, 
with  a  soft  puffed  coverlid  over  her. 

"Muffle  the  telephone,"  was  the  only  thing  she 
said;  "Conover  will  let  us  know  when  the  count 
is  finished." 

It  was  12  o'clock  that  night  when  Conover 
came  up  in  his  car. 

"Please  let  me  wake  her,  Mrs.  Pennington," 
he  begged;  "please  let  me  do  it." 

She  could  not  withstand  the  boyish  pleading  in 
his  eyes.  She  drew  back  and  Conover  went  in 
alone. 

"Billy,  Billy!"  he  cried. 

She  opened  startled  eyes. 

"Can  you  come  down?"  he  cried  excitedly. 
"There's  a  wild-eyed  yelling  mob  down  in  front 
of  the  Forum  office.  There's  a  pack  of  maniacs 
let  loose  in  headquarters.  They're  just  a-honin' 
for  you.    They  say  you've  got  to  come  down  and 


25^  CRAYON    CLUE 

Stand  up  on  a  table  and  make  the  speech  of  your 
life." 

"Oh,  Baring!*'  she  exclaimed;  "have  we  won?'' 

"Won?"  said  Conover,  "jumping  cats,  I  should 
say  we  had.  Why,  they  couldn't  steal  it  away 
from  us.  They  stole  all  they  dared  in  the  tough 
districts  and  then  the  majorities  from  the  decent 
precincts  came  down  and  just  wiped  'em  off  the 
earth.  Licked  both  the  old  parties  to  a  standstill. 
Wha'd  ye  know  about  that;  say,  Billy,  wha'd  ye 
know  about  that?" 

Billy  was  sitting  up  on  the  bed,  a  mass  of 
tousled  golden  locks  framing  her  little  sleepy  face 
and  black  eyes  as  big  as  saucers. 

"Oh,  Baring,"  said  she,  "now  the  next  thing 
is  to  amend  the  city  charter  so  we  can  have  an 
elective  school  board." 

"No,  Billy,"  said  he;  "not  the  next  thing.  Not 
the  very  next  thing;  the  very  next  thing  is  to  ship 
the  big  60  h.  p.  over  and  go  for  a  little  trip 
through  Italy,  just  you  and  I  together,  hey,  Billy? 
A  little  trip  through  Italy  and  down  into  Sicily — 
to  Taormina,  Billy — to  Segesta  and  Girgenti, 
down  where  the  temples  are.  Ah,  Billy,  there  are 
such  pretty  things  in  Italy,  and  I'll  show  them  all 
to  you.  Oh,  Billy" — his  voice  was  smothered 
now — "Oh,  Billy,  isn't  it  lucky  you  kicked  about 
the  chalk  in  the  Bartown  schools?" 

The  black  locks  and  the  golden  were  inextrica- 


THE   END   OF   THE   CAMPAIGN  353 

bly  mingled,  their  lips  found  each  other  in  a  mo- 
ment of  intoxicating  bliss. 

"Oh,  damn  you,  darling,''  said  Conover  in 
strangled  tones,  "why  wouldn't  you  ever  let  me 
do  this  before?" 

From  somewhere  in  the  depths  of  his  coat  Billy 
was  understood  to  say  that  she  could  not  have  it 
while  the  campaign  was  going  on. 

"And  why  not,  I'd  like  to  know?  Why  not, 
you  little  devil?" 

"Because,"  she  murmured,  "it  wouldn't  be  nice 
for  a  man  and  woman  to  be  carrying  on  a  cam- 
paign and  making  love  on  the  side." 

Conover  shook  with  laughter. 

"Then  you  aren't  ever  going  into  another  cam- 
paign as  long  as  you  live?"  he  whispered  in  her 
ear. 

"Baring,"  she  said,  "are  you  going  to  give  me 
a  wedding  present?" 

"You  bet  your  life." 

"Anything  I  want?" 

"Anything — pearls,  diamonds,  house  'n'  lot  on 
toast?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  any  of  those.  At  least — ^you 
can  give  them  all  to  me  if  you  like,  but  I  want 
something  else  too." 

"Hm.  You're  beginning  early,  aren't  you?"  he 
demurred. 

"Listen;  I'll  tell  you  what  I  want." 


354  CRAYON   CLUE 

She  pulled  down  his  head  and  whispered  in  his 
ear. 

He  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  uproari- 
ously, then  squeezed  her  tight. 

"Oh,  Billy,  Billy,"  he  said,  "youVe  all  right." 

He  rose,  unwillingly,  but  with  determination. 

"Get  up,"  he  said;  "get  up  and  dress.  We'll 
have  many  a  night  to  kiss,  my  darling,  but  never 
another  night  like  this.  Mrs.  Pennington,"  he 
shouted,  "come  and  help  her  dress.  Billy  and  I 
are  going  to  be  married,  Mrs.  Pennington.  IVe 
got  her  cinched  at  last."  And  as  she  appeared  he 
ran  to  meet  her,  threw  his  arm  around  her  and 
kissed  her  on  the  cheek. 

"You  dear  boy,"  she  cried  fondly,  "even  if 
Billy  hadn't  taken  you  I'd  have  loved  you  for- 
ever for  what  you've  done  for  my  girls." 

"Now  that's  the  kind  of  mother-in-law  to  have," 
said  he;  "say,  Mrs.  Pennington,  if  Billy  tries  to 
boss  me  around  like  she  does  everybody  you'll 
take  my  part,  won't  you?" 

"Indeed  I  will,"  said  Mrs.  Pennington. 

Billy  and  Conover  trod  on  air  that  night  as  they 
entered  headquarters.  Love  and  victory  in  the 
same  hour.  It  is  an  intoxicating  thing  to  win  a 
hard-fought  campaign.  Not  many  women  know 
that  joy.  Men  know  it,  and  a  few  women  in  the 
equal  suffrage  states.  But  to  have  the  one  man; 
the  one  woman ;  and  victory  besides  I  The  ecstatic 
roar  that  filled  the  headquarters,  like  a  tribe  of 


THE   END   OF   THE    CAMPAIGN  355 

wild  Comanches  rejoicing,  fairly  hushed  to  silence 
as  the  crowd  gazed  at  the  couple  entering.  Two 
handsomer  creatures  than  they  were  that  moment 
probably  never  trod  the  earth.  Conover  was 
erect,  gay,  debonair,  keyed  to  that  pitch  of  tense 
excitement  which  took  possession  of  him  at  high 
pressure  moments.  His  blue  eyes  were  dancing 
and  his  fascinating  smile  curved  those  clean-cut, 
cameo  lips  of  his. 

Billy  had  dashed  cold  water  on  her  face;  she 
had  swallowed  strong  black  coffee;  she  had  put 
on  her  little  gown  of  golden  tissue  with  the  little 
golden  slippers  and  silk  stockings  to  match,  and 
she  hung  like  a  little  princess  of  love  and  laughter 
on  Conover's  arm.  Joy  and  triumph  Irradiated 
them  both ;  youth  and  love  and  victory  seemed  to 
create  an  atmosphere  around  them.  In  which  they 
walked  as  young  gods.  A  moment  they  stood  in 
the  doorway,  and  the  crowd  hushed  to  see  them. 
Then  Conover,  his  head  tipped  slightly  back, 
laughed  aloud,  and  raised  the  silk  hat  which  he 
was  carrying  In  the  air  as  If  calling  for  a  cheer. 

Then  the  rush  came.  The  two  stars  of  the  cam- 
paign were  seized  and  borne  aloft  and  placed  side 
by  side  upon  a  table,  and  round  and  round  that 
table  American  men,  stark  raving  crazy  as  a  presi- 
dential convention,  held  hands  and  circled  at  a 
gallop,  yelling  like  Indians  of  the  plains;  while 
by  the  walls  stood  women  In  mild  amaze,  and 
watched  the  unemotional  sex  express  Its  joy.    An- 


356  CRAYON   CLUE 

drews  and  his  old  boys  were  In  that  mad  gallop, 
Dennis  McPIke  with  the  green  flag  of  Ireland  In 
his  buttonhole,  and  many  a  staid  reformer  who 
had  never  thought  to  discuss  anything  more  hilari- 
ous than  the  commission  form  of  government  or 
the  Initiative  and  referendum. 

It  seemed  Impossible  that  the  celebration  could 
rage  any  more  fiercely.  But  from  that  table  Con- 
over  made  his  first  and  only  speech  of  the  cam- 
paign, and  at  Its  end  he  announced  their  engage- 
ment. Then  explosion  after  explosion  was  heard 
as  the  pillars  and  the  roof  fell  In.  The  building 
reeled,  the  city  trembled,  and  policemen  in  the 
street  below  cursed  In  their  throats  but  did  not 
dare  go  up  and  arrest  the  jays  as  they  would  have 
liked. 

They  used  to  tell  one  story  of  that  night  long 
after.  Some  one,  in  humorous  mood.  Introduced 
a  resolution  that  a  committee  be  sent  to  escort 
Mr.  Dreiser,  "the  Protestant  Pope  of  the  Bar- 
town  schools,"  down  to  join  the  celebration. 

"Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Denny  McPIke  mildly, 
"I  move  an  amindment." 

"State  your  amendment,  Mr.  McPIke." 

"I  move  you,  sor,  to  amind  by  shtrlkin*  out  the 
wurrud  'pope,*  and  subshtltutin'  the  wurrud 
'pup.' " 


CHAPTER   XVI 

The  Wind-up 

THEY  did  not  take  the  trip  to  Italy — not  im- 
mediately. Billy  wanted  to  stay  for  the 
^'inauguration/'  as  she  persisted  in  calling  it, 
though  other  people  named  it  more  modestly  as 
the  installation  of  the  new  mayor. 

So  Mrs.  Jimmy  Wyndham  lent  them  her  house 
in  the  woods.  The  woods  were  the  pine  forest 
of  a  mid-southern  state,  a  most  lovely  retreat  for 
the  late  days  of  April,  ever  chill  and  reluctant  in 
Bartown.  They  were  married  very  quickly  and 
quietly  and  out  of  town  before  anyone  knew  it 
except  the  small  faithful  coterie  which  had  fought 
through  the  campaign  shoulder  to  shoulder  with 
them,  and  which  Billy  and  Conover  ever  after 
designated  as  "The  Gang."  They  were  gone  by 
the  time  Bartown  knew  it  in  the  papers  next  morn- 
ing, and  they  were  among  the  piney  woods  while 
the  news  was  reverberating  across  the  continent 
and  the  Atlantic,  in  an  aftermath  of  special  ar- 
ticles, mention  on  the  society  pages,  and  editorial 
remarks. 

The  marriage  of  a  man  like  Conover  is  chroni- 

357 


358  CRAYON    CLUE 

cled  like  that  of  a  prince ;  for  he  is  a  prince  of  mil- 
lions if  not  of  territory;  and  he  holds  the  power  of 
life  and  death  over  thousands  in  his  hand,  al- 
though changed  conditions  have  made  the  exercise 
of  that  power  less  direct  than  when  his  feudal 
prototypes  held  the  right  of  capital  punishment  in 
their  own  domains.  When  in  addition  to  furnish- 
ing a  queen  of  the  Conover  millions  he  took  for 
that  queen  a  woman  who  earned  her  own  living,  it 
made  of  the  affair  a  sensation.  Those  Americans 
who  reflect  a  regime  just  past,  it  is  true,  saw  noth- 
ing remarkable  in  Conover^s  marrying  Billy. 
They  thought  Billy  extremely  lucky  to  catch  such  a 
fortune,  but  money  aside  they  did  not  regard  Con- 
over  as  belonging  to  any  different  order  of  hu- 
manity from  Billy.  Had  not  one  president  of  the 
United  States  married  a  boarding  house  keeper, 
and  the  wife  of  another  taught  school  before  she 
was  married? 

But  that  element  engaged,  whether  consciously 
or  unconsciously,  in  erecting  rigid  castes  in  Amer- 
ica with  all  the  accelerated  speed  with  which 
American  civilization  moves;  and  that  vast  mass 
of  newspaper  readers  who  are  just  a  step  from 
the  steerage  and  who  would  not  be  reading  any- 
thing at  all  in  any  other  country  on  earth,  found 
the  item  sensational,  and  the  newspapers  dwelt 
upon  it. 

Billy  and  Conover  had  excluded  the  public 
prints  down  among  the  piney  woods ;  and  they  re- 


THE   WIND-UP  359 

ceived  little  mail,  for  only  their  intimates  knew 
where  they  were.  They  were  tired  to  nausea  of 
the  strenuous  life.  For  a  little  interlude  they 
wanted  only  the  pine  woods — and  each  other. 

There  the  honeymoon  nights  throbbed  them- 
selves away;  and  there  by  day  they  talked  in- 
terminably, for  they  knew  each  other  by  deeds,  not 
words;  their  acquaintance  had  been  a  period  of 
violent  action,  with  little  time  for  conversation. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  days  were  not  long  enough  to 
say  all  they  had  to  say  to  each  other.  Night  came 
before  they  had  made  any  impression  upon  the 
mass  of  things  to  be  said,  and  Conover  insisted 
that  Billy  talked  on  in  her  sleep. 

"Well,  the  Teachers'  Association  has  appointed 
Sara  Business  Agent  in  my  place,  so  that's  all 
right,"  said  Billy  with  satisfaction  one  day  as  she 
laid  down  a  letter  from  home ;  "now  the  Associa- 
tion will  just  boom." 

Conover  laughed. 

"Those  were  two  great  girls  of  yours,  Billy," 
said  he,  "Sara  and  that  Perkins  kid.  You  know 
Bram  told  me  that  he  found  out  she  was  getting 
fifteen  dollars  a  week  and  offered  her  eighteen  to 
come  to  him,  and  she  asked  him  what  he  took  her 
for.  He  had  to  give  her  thirty  before  he  could 
get  her.  That's  what  he  pays  his  men  beginners, 
and  she  knew  it.  He  said  he  thought  that  was  an 
outrage,  as  the  men  had  families  to  support.  I 
told  him  I  thought  probably  Miss  Perkins  would 


360  CRAYON   CLUE 

like  the  privilege  of  setting  up  a  family  herself 
if  she  wanted  to.  Fm  sure  some  poor  man  would 
appreciate  it." 

'Td  like  to  see  the  man  that  could  get  Delia  to 
support  him,"  said  Billy;  **he'd  have  to  be  a  smart 
one.  Delia  is  an  unsocial  being  anyway,  with  ^ 
cynicism  concerning  the  worthiness  of  the  human 
race  which  is  painful  in  one  so  young.  She'll 
never  fall  for  the  common  lot.  Her  stunt  is  to 
trail  the  rascals  in  the  dark.  But  Sara's  just  the 
opposite — she's  all  social  in  her  nature.  I  never 
saw  a  girl  develop  so  fast  as  she  has.  Did  I  tell 
you  how  I  heard  her  calling  down  a  compatriot  of 
hers  at  that  Gaelic  festival  we  went  to?" 

"No,  how  was  it?" 

"Well,  she  was  talking  suffrage  to  an  Irish- 
American,  and  he  made  the  objection  which  is 
getting  to  be  the  stock  plea  of  the  antis.  He  said 
in  a  very  superior  way  that  there  were  too  many 
voting  already;  that  the  electorate  should  be  re- 
duced Instead  of  extended;  that  the  growing  Ills 
of  the  Republic  were  due  to  placing  the  ballot  in 
the  hands  of  those  unfit  to  exercise  it.  His  con- 
science, he  said,  would  never  allow  him  to  give 
the  vote  to  all  the  ignorant  foreign  women  now 
coming  to  the  country.  So  then  Sara  let  him  have 
it.  We  wouldn't  dare  do  it,  you  know,  but  she 
could. 

"  'What  a  lucky  thing  it  was,'  said  she,  *that  the 
American  people  weren't  feeling  that  way  when 


THE  WIND-UP  361 

your  father  came  over.  How  far  are  you  from 
the  bog  yourself?'  said  she.  *The  Irish  have  ar- 
rived/ said  she,  *and  so  now  the  Poles  and  Huns 
and  Dagoes  can  look  out  for  themselves  and  the 
devil  take  the  hindmost/  said  she. 

*'Sara  says/'  continued  Billy,  "that  the  glory  of 
the  Irish  race  has  always  been  that  they  were 
*agin'  the  government.'  They  were  ready  to  fight 
place  and  power  and  stand  up  for  the  people  at  all 
times.  They  were  natural  and  glorious  rebels. 
She  tells  that  story  of  the  Irishman  in  the  old 
country  that  went  to  confess.  He  confessed  sin 
after  sin  and  crime  after  crime  till  finally  the 
priest  said,  'God  save  us,  were  ye  never  after  do- 
ing a  good  act  in  your  life?'  And  the  man  says, 
*Yes,  I  killed  a  landlord  once.' 

"But  Sara  says  that  now  the  Irish  have  got  rich 
In  America  they're  joining  in  with  the  ruling 
classes  for  the  first  time  in  their  history.  In- 
stead of  reverencing  the  fundamental  principles 
of  the  great  democracy  that  took  them  in  and  gave 
them  a  chance  to  show  what  they  could  do,  those 
that  have  got  rich  among  them  have  now  joined 
the  game  of  exploitation.  She  says  these  papal 
titles  being  conferred  on  rich  Irish-Americans  are 
one  of  the  most  insidious  means  of  undermining 
democratic  feeling  among  the  race  in  this  country. 
The  papers  and  the  patriots  throw  moral  fits  over 
the  American  girls  that  marry  for  titles,  but  never 
notice  the  American  men  that  proudly  accept  papal 


362  CRAYON   CLUE 

titles.  She  says  that  Irish  grocer  who  has  that 
chain  of  stores  you  know,  who  was  made  a  knight 
by  the  Vatican,  ought  to  adopt  for  his  coat  of 
arms  the  motto,  'Short  Weights  and  Over 
Charges  for  AIL'  " 

Conover  chuckled. 

"Sara's  drifting  away  from  the  church,  isn't 
she?"  he  asked. 

"No,  she  could  never  be  a  Protestant  any  more 
than  I  could  be  a  Catholic.  She's  a  good  Catholic. 
She  gets  something  out  of  the  ceremonies  and 
mysteries  of  the  church,  some  spiritual  help  and 
comfort  that  console  her  for  her  dead.  All 
churches,  you  know,  have  risen  from  the  sobs  of 
farewell  at  the  graves  of  our  dead;  because  we 
can't  let  go,  or  conceive  that  we  shall  not  see  them 
again.  It's  for  that  Sara  clings  to  her  church. 
She  sees  nothing  but  blind  surmise  if  she  lets  go. 
But  the  organization  of  the  church,  the  machinery 
by  which  it  maintains  itself  as  an  institution,  she's 
getting  to  see  is  just  a  human  outfit  like  the  rest 
of  the  rings.  She  says  if  the  church  doesn't  mind 
its  p's  and  q's  it'll  get  fired  out  of  America  the 
way  it  has  from  the  Catholic  countries.  She  says 
the  Irish  women,  who  are  good  fighters,  are  begin- 
ning to  edge  into  the  suflfrage  movement  in  Amer- 
ica, and  that  if  the  priests  oppose  them  they'll 
lose  them." 

"I  wonder  the  Socialists  didn't  get  you,  Billy," 
said  Conover;  "I  know  they  were  after  you." 


THE   WIND-UP  363 

"Well,  they  got  me  theoretically,  but  not  prac- 
tically," said  Billy  thoughtfully. 

*What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"I  mean  that  I  accept  the  Socialist  Interpreta- 
tion of  history,"  said  Billy;  "the  economic  inter- 
pretation of  history.  No  one  with  any  sense  can 
do  anything  else,  I  should  think.  But  I  can't  work 
with  the  Socialist  Party.  The  Socialist  Party,  for 
instance,  won't  do  a  thing  to  help  a  fight  like  the 
one  we  had  in  Bartown,  and  they  hate  to  see  it 
win.  They  won't  work  for  anything  except  to  get 
you  to  vote  the  Socialist  ticket.  They  have  their 
own  reasons  for  that,  which  are  perfectly  satis- 
factory to  them,  but  I  can't  work  that  way.  I'm 
an  opportunist." 

"Then  they  must  hate  you,"  chuckled  Conover. 

"Yes,  they  don't  like  me  at  all.  They  don't  like 
to  see  any  abuse  abolished,  or  to  see  the  people  win 
in  any  of  these  preliminary  fights.  They  want  to 
see  capitalism  go  on  to  the  bitter  end,  just  as  hard 
and  fast  as  it  can,  just  as  the  French  monarchy 
did.  They  hate  any  progress  in  popular  rights 
that  comes  outside  their  party.  They  would  deny 
it,  but  they  do." 

"Well,  see  here,  Billy,"  said  Conover,  "I  don't 
see  where  you  have  any  kick  coming.  You  got 
what  you  wanted  without  the  vote." 

Billy's  eyes  snapped. 

"I  like  your  saying  that,"  said  she,  "after  we 
worked  through  that  campaign  together  as  we 


364  CRAYON    CLUE 

did,  and  then  on  election  day  you  could  go  and 
vote  and  I  wasn't  allowed  to." 

"That's  right,"  said  Conover;  **It's  all  damn 
foolishness.    There  Isn't  any  sense  In  It." 

"Besides,"  said  Billy,  "I  happened  to  have 
great  luck.  I  happened  to  Interest  you,  through 
a  peculiar  combination  of  circumstances,  and  you 
happened  to  have  heaps  of  money  and  a  big  pa- 
per, and  we  won.  Women  often  win  In  excep- 
tional circumstances,  but  the  common  ordinary 
woman,  woman  In  the  mass,  will  never  get  what's 
coming  to  her  till  she  gets  the  vote.  There's  al- 
ways a  ruling  class,  but  In  a  republic  the  voters 
Impose  a  check  on  that  class.  But  the  women  are 
excluded  from  exercising  that  check." 

"But  they  do  exercise  It,  Indirectly,"  said  Con- 
over. 

"Very  well,"  said  Billy,  "If  they  do  actually 
Impose  that  check  Indirectly  there  can  be  no  harm 
In  letting  them  Impose  It  directly." 

"I  wonder  If  anyone  can  get  ahead  of  a  suffra- 
gette," said  Conover. 

"Don't  laugh,"  said  Billy  peremptorily;  "that's 
what  makes  me  so  mad  at  men,  the  way  they 
laugh  at  everything.  I  presume  In  a  good  many 
cases  woman  suffrage  won't  make  much  difference, 
but  you  know  In  a  campaign  like  ours  It  would 
make  an  awful  lot  of  difference,  Baring  Con- 
over." 

"That's  right,"   said   Conover,   "and  I  guess 


THE  WIND-UP  365 

that's  the  kind  of  campaign  that's  going  to  be 
waged  more  and  more  from  now  on.  But  tell  me, 
Billy" — he  stretched  out  on  the  ground  under  the 
still,  fragrant  pines  and  put  his  head  in  her  lap — 
"what  have  you  got  laid  out  to  do  when  you  get 
back?    What's  your  programme ?" 

"As  for  me,"  said  Billy,  rumpling  his  hair  af- 
fectionately, "I'm  going  to  work  for  suffrage  and 
keep  an  eye  on  the  Bartown  schools.  I'll  help  the 
Teachers'  Association." 

"Boss  Sara  McPike  on  the  q.  t,  I  suppose," 
said  Conover. 

"Nobody  could  boss  Sara  McPike,"  replied 
Billy;  "I'll  help  them  get  the  tenure-of-office  law 
and  a  pension  law." 

"I  suppose  you  think  you  can  give  them  big 
contributions  now  you've  got  a  settlement  out  of 
me." 

"I  didn't  get  It  out  of  you,"  said  Billy;  "you  set- 
tled it  on  me  without  consulting  me,  like  the  thor- 
oughbred you  are.  But  if  you  hadn't  done  it  I'd 
have  made  you.  I  can't  go  asking  a  man  for 
money.  I've  had  my  pay  envelope  handed  out 
regularly  too  long  for  that.  If  you  didn't  want 
me  to  earn  my  own  income  any  longer  it  was  your 
business  to  provide  me  with  one." 

"Just  so,"  said  Conover.  He  reached  up  and 
pulled  her  head  down.  "Guess  we  won't  quarrel 
over  money,  Billy,"  he  mumbled. 

"Well,  go  on,"   said  he,   after  an  interlude; 


3^6  CRAYON    CLUE 

"what  have  you  got  laid  out  for  me?  I  might  as 
well  know  the  worst." 

*'You  don't  need  to  make  any  more  money," 
said  Billy;  *'weVe  got  more  than  we  can  possibly 
use  on  ourselves.  I  don't  see  that  you  need  get 
anything  more  out  of  the  Forum  than  make  it 
pay  its  own  expenses." 

"Rot,"  said  Conover;  "you  don't  know  what 
you're  talking  about  I  A  paper  that's  just  making 
expenses  isn't  any  good.  A  paper  that's  any  good 
is  making  money." 

"All  right,"  said  Billy,  "go  ahead  and  make 
the  Forum  make  money  then,  and  serve  the  people 
at  the  same  time.  That's  job  enough  for  a  grown 
man,  I  should  think.  I  don't  see  but  what  these 
muckraking  magazines  make  money  enough.  I 
should  think  you  could  go  after  a  national  circu- 
lation with  your  Sunday  magazine,  such  as  the 
weekly  magazines  have." 

"By  gum,  that's  a  good  ideal"  said  Conover, 
rising  on  one  elbow. 

Billy  pulled  him  back. 

"Then  you've  got  to  clean  house,"  said  she. 

"Clean  house?" 

"Yes,  go  through  all  your  investments  and  see 
where  your  money  comes  from.  You  haven't  any 
child  labor  or  sweated  industries  on  the  Forum, 
I  guess,  except  maybe  that  office  boy  you've  got, 
and  I  wouldn't  mind  if  you  did  sweat  him.  If 
there's  any  juvenile  labor  that  does  not  stir  my 


THE   WIND-UP  367 

sympathies  it's  the  average  newspaper  office  boy. 
But  if  you  do  make  a  pot  of  money  with  the 
Forum  I  don't  see  why  you  couldn't  hand  out  a 
percentage  of  the  profits  to  all  hands  every  New 
Year.    You  couldn't  make  it  without  them." 

^'That's  nice,"  said  Conover;  "go  on.  I  see 
my  finish." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  where  all  your  money  is," 
said  Billy;  "didn't  I  hear  you  say  you  had  some 
in  a  cotton  factory  down  south  here  somewhere?" 

"Correct." 

"You'd  better  take  a  look  around  then  and  see 
if  there's  any  child  labor  there.  I  shouldn't  won- 
der if  we'd  be  able  to  scrape  along  without  making 
small  children  work  for  us.  If  you're  drawing 
any  income  from  tenement  houses,  you'd  better 
look  them  over,  and  be  sure  they're  fit  for  human 
beings  to  live  in,  not  giving  them  tuberculosis  or 
anything^  And  you'd  better  see  that  none  of  them 
are  being  rented  for  improper  purposes.  I  should 
hate  to  feel  that  white  slaves  were  earning  any  of 
the  money  I  was  spending." 

"Go  on,"  said  Conover;  "this  is  what  comes  of 
marrying  a  stump  speaker." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you'd  kick  up  row 
enough  in  that  much  to  keep  you  busy  for  a 
while,"  said  Billy;  "but  haven't  you  got  a  lot  of 
money  in  the  Bartown  and  North  Shore?" 

"Guilty." 

"You'd  better  look  into  that,  then,  and  see  that 


368  CRAYON   CLUE 

there's  an  automatic  damage  regulation  on  that 
road.  The  spectacle  of  a  great  railroad  fighting 
a  poor  widow  with  nine  small  children  over  dam- 
ages for  a  husband  killed,  or  some  poor  fellow 
with  a  family  to  support  that's  lost  a  limb  doing 
its  work,  would  hardly  be  pleasing  to  a  perfect 
gentleman,  I  should  think." 

"An  automatic  damage  law  would  be  just  an 
incentive  to  carelessness." 

"Shucks  I  No  man  is  going  to  risk  losing  a  leg 
or  an  arm  or  a  head  just  because  he  knows  he  can 
get  damages  for  it." 

Conover  sat  up  on  the  pine  needles,  lit  a  cigar- 
ette and  puffed  it  thoughtfully. 

"Billy,"  said  he  at  length,  "the  thing  about  you 
Is  that  if  I  refused,  after  reasonable  opportunity, 
to  do  these  things,  and  insisted  on  living  upon 
money  which  you  considered  came  from  cruelty  or 
oppression  or  disgraceful  sources,  you'd  quit, 
wouldn't  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Billy,  "I  would.  I  can't  tell  what 
I'd  do  if  I  were  in  danger  of  starvation.  Self- 
preservation  is  the  first  law  of  life.  But  as  it  is 
I  can  earn  an  honest  decent  living  in  an  honest 
decent  profession,  and  I'm  not  so  dependent  on 
diamonds  and  good  clothes  that  I've  got  to  have 
them  at  the  expense  of  my  self-respect." 

Conover  smoked  a  while  longer. 

"But  where  does  love  come  in?"  said  he. 

"I  couldn't  feel  as  I  do  toward  you,"  said 


THE   WIND-UP  369 

Billy,  "if  you  could  take  money  that  came  from 
cruelties  and  abuses.  If  you  were  sick  and  poor 
and  out  of  a  job,  it  would  be  different.  But  not 
a  rich  man  like  you." 

"I  see,"  said  Conover. 

He  puffed  again. 

"Billy,"  said  he,  "Fm  hungry." 

"You  always  are,"  said  Billy  dispassionately. 

"Well,  I  don't  think  I've  got  much  of  any- 
thing on  you,  you  conceited  little  devil,  you.  Say, 
Billy,  do  you  know  the  reason  why  you  were  never 
fired?" 

Vivid  curiosity  on  that  subject  had  possessed 
Billy  for  months,  but  the  piney  woods  and  the 
honeymoon  had  made  it  all  seem  a  little  dream- 
like. 

"No,"  she  replied  with  some  animation;  "why 
was  it?" 

"Well,  of  course  later  things  got  too  hot  and 
you  got  too  prominent  for  anything  so  brash  as 
that.  But  right  there  at  first  you'd  have  been 
fired  in  a  minute  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  re- 
ceipted bill,  you  know ;  the  one  that  showed  Drei- 
ser's rebate.  You  had  that  bill  put  away  in  a 
safety  deposit  box  somewhere.  The  Old  Man 
told  me  about  it.  He  called  you  in  the  first  time 
you  started  out,  you  remember?  And  got  it  out 
of  you.  But  you  wouldn't  tell  him  where  it  was, 
and  you  had  them  blocked.  It  was  no  good  to 
fire  you.     They  thought  you  were  just  waiting 


3TO  CRAYON   CLUB 

for  that  to  produce  the  receipt.  They  thought 
they  might  retain  some  little  control  over  you  by 
keeping  you  in  the  job.  Dreiser  knew  all  about 
your  visit  to  the  Forum  within  twenty-four  hours. 
And  he  knew  every  time  you  went  to  a  newspaper. 
They  just  sat  back  and  watched  you  travel  from 
one  to  another.  Glad  to  see  you  keep  yourself 
busy  and  out  of  mischief. 

"But  you  had  them  all  guessing.  They  put  de- 
tectives on  you.  You  were  trailed,  but  you  never 
went  near  a  bank  or  trust  company.  All  your 
friends  were  looked  up.  None  of  them  could  be 
found  who  kept  a  safety  deposit  box.  Where'd 
you  have  the  thing,  anyway?" 

"Why,  I  had  it  in  John  P.  Gainsworthy's  box,*' 
said  Billy. 

A  wandering  hand  sought  Conover's  manly 
brow. 

"Would  you  tell  me,"  he  said  with  immense 
politeness,  "would  you  mind  telling  me  how  in 
the  name  of  the  great  two-tailed  Bashaw  you 
came  to  have  it  in  Mr.  Gainsworthy's  box?" 

"Why,  Ethel  works  for  him,"  said  Billy  simply. 
"He  sends  her  to  his  safety  deposit  box.  She 
asked  him  if  she  might  keep  our  endowment  in- 
surance policies  there.  You  never  can  tell  when 
you're  going  to  be  burned  out  in  an  apartment 
house.  He  said  of  course,  so  I  slipped  the  papers 
in  the  envelope  with  the  policies  and  they  were 
there  all  through  the  campaign." 


THE  WIND-UP  37I« 

Laughter  rose  and  engulfed  Conover  like  a 
flood.  It  poured  from  him  in  Niagaras  of  mirth. 
It  leaked  from  his  eyes,  it  trickled  away  in  drib- 
lets to  renew  itself  in  other  bursts  as  freshets 
came  down  from  the  hills.  Billy  watched  him  in 
amazement. 

"Perhaps  youM  put  me  on,"  she  said' frigidly. 

Conover  wiped  his  eyes. 

**Why,"  said  he,  "John  P.  Gainsworthy  is  the 
president  of  the  Second  National,  where  the 
school  funds  were  on  deposit,  the  bank  that  was 
fighting  us  so  hard  all  through  the  campaign. 
While  Dreiser  was  going  to  such  extravagant 
lengths  to  get  those  papers  they  were  gently  re- 
posing in  the  private  receptacle  of  his  friend  and 
ally.  If  you  girls  aren't  the  devil  anyway.  How 
is  it  I  never  heard  Ethel  worked  for  the  Second 
National?" 

"She  didn't.  She  worked  for  the  McKinley 
Trust  Company." 

"Oh,  I  see;  and  Gainsworthy's  president  of 
both.  Say,  Billy,  did  you  ever  think  that  Ethel 
and  Denny •" 

"Yes,"  said  Billy  with  a  pleased  smile,  "I  think 
Ethel  and  Denny  will  hit  it  off." 

He  got  up,  then  reached  down  and  pulled  her 
up.  Then  he  squeezed  her  tight  and  kissed  her 
hard. 

"You're  all  right,  Billy,"  said  he. 

"So  are  you.  Baring,"  she  answered  softly. 


37^  CRAYON   CLUE 

They  got  back  to  Bartown  In  ample  time  for 
the  "inauguration'';  in  fact  in  time  to  attend  a 
few  conferences,  committee  meetings,  consulta- 
tions and  other  moves  in  the  game  of  politics  be- 
fore that  distinguished  event  transpired.  Imme- 
diately after  the  installation  of  the  new  city  gov- 
ernment there  was  a  meeting  In  the  mayor's  pri- 
vate office  which  lasted  two  hours  or  more.  At 
its  close  Mrs.  Baring  Conover  Issued  from  the 
room,  amid  much  shaking  of  hands  and  many 
smiling  congratulations,  stepped  into  her  waiting 
car  and  was  driven  to  the  Board  of  Education 
Building. 

She  went  up  to  the  floor  on  which  the  superin- 
tendent's office  was  located,  entered  his  outer 
office  and  walked  towards  the  inner  one  without 
speaking  to  anyone.  An  office  girl  with  painted 
face,  towering  rat  and  skirt  plastered  tight  to  her 
legs,  sprang  up  from  her  machine  and  faced  her 
with  lifted  eyebrows  and  supercilious  look. 

Billy  swerved  gently  by  her  and  an  older 
woman  pulled  the  girl  back,  whispering,  "You 
fool,  don't  you  know  that's  Billy  Pennington?" 

Billy  entered  the  Inner  office  without  knocking. 
She  had  purposely  come  a  little  late.  Two  men 
sat  there,  Dreiser  and  Brackett.  Both  rose  as  she 
entered,  both  stepped  forward  at  the  same  in- 
stant to  place  a  chair  for  her. 

Billy  sat  down  in  the  chair.  Then,  as  soon  as 
the  two  men  were  seated,  she  rose  again,  and 


THE   WIND-UP  373 

Stood  looking  down  at  them.  She  had  made  no 
reply  to  any  of  their  conventional  words  of  greet- 
ing.   Now  she  spoke. 

"I  asked  you  to  meet  me  here,"  she  said 
gravely,  "because  there  is  a  little  piece  of  infor- 
mation which  I  wished  to  give  both  of  you.  An 
hour  ago  Charles  Cromer  and  J.  P.  Sheets  re- 
signed." 

Dreiser's  hand  gripped  the  arm  of  his  chair 
suddenly,  and  he  straightened  a  little.  Her  eyes 
were  fixed  squarely  on  his. 

"The  mayor  laid  before  them  this  afternoon," 
said  she,  "the  proofs  we  have  collected  as  to  ir- 
regular methods  in  the  building  committee  and 
the  committee  on  supplies.  When  told  that  the 
new  administration  would  begin  an  investigation 
at  once,  they  decided  to  resign.  We  gave  them 
their  choice  between  that  and  an  investigation." 

She  paused,  waiting  for  each  word  to  sink  in. 

"The  mayor  had  already  appointed  three  new 
members  of  the  Board,"  she  went  on.  "He  imme- 
diately appointed  two  additional  ones,  who  had 
been  consulted  and  had  indicated  their  willing- 
ness to  serve.  This  gives  the  administration  five 
out  of  nine  on  the  Board  of  Education." 

She  paused  again.  She  intended  the  grilling  to 
be  leisurely. 

"These  facts  are  being  withheld  from  the  press 
for  an  hour  or  two  at  my  request.  The  new  ad- 
ministration is  very  kind  to  me." 


374  CRAYON   CLUE 

Another  pause. 

"I  was  one  of  the  new  members,"  she  said 
softly.  "The  new  Board  met  at  once,  at  the  city 
hall,  and  organized  by  the  election  of  a  presi- 
dent." 

The  words  dropped  slowly,  softly,  like  chilled 
honey. 

"I  was  elected  president  of  the  Board,"  said 
she. 

The  room  was  absolutely  still. 

"The  action  is  somewhat  unusual,  but  not  un- 
precedented. There  have  been  women  presidents 
of  school  boards  elsewhere,  and  the  new  adminis- 
tration seemed  to  feel  that  I  had  assisted  some- 
what to  place  It  in  power." 

Still  silence. 

"I  thought  maybe  you  would  like  to  know," 
said  she  slowly,  "that  Miss  Kate  Miller  will  be 
restored  to  her  position  as  teacher  of  mathe- 
matics in  P.  S.  59;  and  that  Mrs.  Merrill  will  be 
reappointed  superintendent  of  drawing  In  the  Bar- 
town  schools;  and  that  your  resignation,  Mr. 
Dreiser,  and  yours,  Mr.  Brackett,  will  be  ac- 
cepted. Professor  Andrews  is  to  be  superintend- 
ent of  the  Bartown  schools." 

She  leaned  over  the  desk  a  little,  toward  Drei- 
ser. 

"Every  school  journal  and  every  big  daily  in 
the  United  States  has  already  spread  your  record 
upon    its   pages,"    said   she.      "Even    today   no 


THE   WIND-UP  375 

metropolitan  city  will  engage  you.  I  wish  you  to 
know  that  I  will  make  it  my  business,  with  all  the 
power  of  money,  politics  and  a  big  paper,  to  drive 
both  of  you  out  of  the  teaching  profession." 

She  looked  a  second  longer  at  the  two  white 
silent  creatures ;  then  gathered  up  her  long  gloves 
and  turned  negligently  away. 

*'That  is  all,  I  believe,"  she  said. 

At  the  door  Conover  met  her. 

"All  right?"  he  inquired,  with  a  wicked  grin. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  and  looked  at  him 
sweetly. 

"That  was  a  nice  wedding  present  you  got  me. 
Baring,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice;  "the  presidency 
of  the  Bartown  School  Board." 


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